


Poké Wars: The Lapidescence (Kanto Arc: Part 1)

by Cornova



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Dark, Character Death, F/M, Nostalgia, Survival
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-07-14 14:18:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 142,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16042178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornova/pseuds/Cornova
Summary: We were so blind. Now in our end of days, it's like seeing for the first time. Now everybody's true self comes out. We see how far we're willing to go to live. Worse is what we didn't wanna see: what was there all along. The creatures we thought we had conquered are gone, and what's left in our pockets are monsters.





	1. Cats in the Cradle

August 15

"Da moon's beautiful tonight," Meowth thought to himself, his view of the silver sphere broken only by the dark wisps of cloud that darted past his field of vision. "I wonda if Meowsie's lookin' up too?" It was a question he had asked himself at every full moon he saw; a question that still remained unanswered — and would likely remain that way for as long as he lived. She not only demolished the relationship, she burnt its foundations; he was never to be with her.

So why do I still tink of her?

The years had seen fit to dull the parts of his mind that held the details of her face. Piecing her visage from memory alone was like trying to paint on water. Within him, his emotions battled: part of him begged to know what she looked like; while the other part shouted it down with the simple retort "Who cares!?"

It wasn't the first time he'd started to forget what she looked like and it wasn't until the trip back to that town that his memory of her had been refreshed. "It's been three years," he reminded himself, as if to justify his own struggle to dig up her image.

Three years since his duel with Persian for Meowsie's love and eventual rejection.

Four years since they started following one kid and his electric starter.

Four years of failure and involuntary flights across the regions they traveled.

The thoughts were automatically shifted to the back of his mind, joining the dark closet where other negative thoughts languished until they're forgotten. It was a coping mechanism the team had learnt early on; dwelling on their failures was a weight they didn't need to carry to fulfill their missions.

It was better to simply forget their losses and focus on the next scheme; it was easier on their morale and spirit. Meowth imagined they'd all have quit long ago if they hadn't come up with that type of mental discipline.

There were times where they wouldn't even wait to land to start plotting. Tonight was not one of those nights. Tonight was silent, save for the wind rushing past their ears. Nights were some of the better times to blast off, if only because of the chance they had to see the moon and stars in their infinite beauty. Daytime blast-offs only promised a blinding sun beating down on them with its oppressive heat.

But not tonight. Tonight we got dis view.

Meowth sighed and opened his eyes; a soft smile touched his lips when the stars winked back at him, almost cheering them on.

We should do our gig at night more often.

Blasting off had been rough at first. Over time they grew accustomed to — even reveling in —their temporary weightlessness. Their acrophobia and discomfort at their inability to control their speed of flight and launch had long since vanished. Instead, they focused on the positive part: being the rare few privileged to fly without machines or Pokémon.

Unfortunately, one flaw remained. Without any sort of guidance system, they had no idea about when or where they were going to land.

Enough time had elapsed to be able to laugh about the old days. Newer members to their group were snapshots of the past. Indeed, blasting off had in some way been co-opted as a rite of passage for the group

Meowth turned his head to his teammate, soaring through the sky at his side. Periwinkle locks fluttered in the wind that tugged at his white jumpsuit, windblown ripples formed over the white plain. Jade green eyes gazed into the night sky; his face was serene as he drank in the starlight.

While the sight of moon brought him memories of Meowsie, Meowth had no idea what it invoked in Jessie and James. The years had brought them somewhat closer but his partners weren't entirely keen on divulging what had gone on in their lives. For each member of the trio, the lives of the others were like a jigsaw puzzle with the majority of the pieces missing; you could make out a few distinct images but there were large blanks and single puzzle pieces between those images.

A look to his right brought Jessie — crimson hair resolute against the raging gale — into view. While James had sported a determined stare, Jessie's eyes were somber and blank. It was a look that Meowth was unaccustomed to seeing; in fact, it was downright disturbing.

There was always flame within her eyes. Sometimes it blazed like the Firebird herself. Still other times, it guttered and wavered under an invisible wind. But regardless of what happened, that internal blaze never, ever went out. Whenever their motivation weakened, her blazing glare rekindled it. But now, her burning gaze was just a mere cinder. Her half-lidded and unsettlingly calm eyes gazed into the sky.

"Jessie…you 'kay?" Meowth sputtered out.

Muted blue eyes slid over to look at him. Her lips opened to form words, only to have them stillborn in her mouth. Her stare bore the tinges of uncertainty; her lips pressed tightly together into a thin red line, almost as if she feared their betrayal.

"We're coming up on a mountain," James announced in the bored manner of a taxi driver. Unaware of the moment between Jessie and Meowth, he grabbed the Scratch Cat Pokémon by reflex. Jessie brought out her pokéballs, a flash of light marking the release of her Yanmega and Wobbuffet. Six black spindly legs wrapped around James' waist as Wobbuffet maneuvered himself beneath his trainer. Despite being routine, James still felt a small surge of adrenaline as the ground rose up to meet them.

Yanmega's wings hummed as she plunged towards the earth, lifting up just before they hit the stony mountain road. A plume of dirt rose into the air to mark Jessie and Wobbuffet's landing zone. James' feet were dangling just a few inches off the ground before Yanmega released him onto the road that wound along the mountainside. Meowth hopped out of his grasp and made his way towards the settling dust cloud.

Jessie lay at the edge of the crater Wobbuffet had made. Her eyes were closed and her arms at her sides with the earth against her back. From all appearances, it appeared that she was sleeping. But since they had just landed from one of their blast-offs, the truth was likely to be far less pleasant.

***

"What happened?" Yanmega demanded, the buzzing of her powerful wings increasing in pitch and tempo. She stared daggers at the eyes on Wobbuffet's blue body.

"I-I don't know! She was fine when we landed and then she just fell over!" the Patient Pokémon cried back.

***

James was already kneeling over his partner. Unaware of the conversation being held around him, he scanned her body for any wounds. His confusion mounted when he found none.

"Jessie, are you okay? Come on, talk to me!" he pleaded.

A weak smile flickered on her lips before she opened her eyes. Shimmering blue met green. "I'm not hurt," she said, her voice a petering breeze that brushed aside dead leaves.

"Jessie, what's wrong?"

Her gaze was aimed straight up, shifting slightly as if studying the clouds and night sky for her next words."…I'm tired," she replied, her look turning piteous when the words didn't seem to register.

"I know we were up pretty late tonight but it's nothing we haven—" James went on until the tips of Jessie's fingers gently touched his lips.

"That's…not what I'm talking about, James." She pulled her fingers back and gave him a searching look.

Layers of emotion lifted over his eyes in the silence that deepened between them. Realization gave way to shock, then disbelief, then confusion, until it hardened into disapproval. Entire years were conveyed through extended stares and blinks; memories and phantom conversations wordlessly passed between them.

"Jess, I know it's been rough lately, but we can't give up now. Not after all we've been through. We'll catch the twerp's Pikachu for sure next time, I know it."

That familiar fire roared to life within the blue pools of Jessie's eyes once more. She sat up and shoved him aside, already on her feet when he lost his balance and fell back. Yanmega buzzed angrily until Meowth held up a paw and motioned for her to sit this one out. The Ogre Darner Pokémon was new to the group, so she hadn't gotten completely accustomed to the team's dynamic. She noticed Wobbuffet made no move to intervene and the look on Meowth's face said all she needed to know.

"And what if you're wrong, James? What if we fail again? Are we going to do the same thing we always do? Are we just going to try again the next day? And the day after that? Just like we've been doing for months? Just like we've been doing for years!? When does it end, James? What do we have to show for all the years we've been after that twerp?" Jessie snapped, each word slashing the night like a razor blade.

"Where is this coming from?" The bluenette dusted his pants as he stood back up.

"Where do you think!?"

"We've had this argument a hundred times and we've never gotten anywhere with it." James was a few feet from Jessie now. He had positioned himself so his height served not to intimidate but to convey that he wasn't going to back down this time.

"That's the problem! We're not getting anywhere doing this! We haven't gotten anywhere for years! Aren't you tired of being a loser? Aren't you sick of getting so close to success and then just having it torn away from you over and over again?" Jessie's face was flushed, the piercing blue of her eyes dimming once again.

"Of course I'm tired! Who wouldn't be? I…I thought we should've stopped ages ago, but…" James trailed off.

"But what, James!?"

"You still kept going. We always followed your lead, Jessie. There were plenty of times I wanted to quit, plenty of times I wanted to cut our losses and do something else. But you kept pushing us to keep tailing that twerp."

The silence that ensued was almost worse than the yelling.

"Is that what you think?" Jessie's voice was low and icy-calm. "Is that what you both think?"

Jessie's fiery glare now turned on the cat pokémon. Jessie watched his eyes lower, wringing the fur around his wrists with his paws. Meowth had learned long ago that his input meant nothing when the arguments degenerated to this degree; in fact there were times where his words only served to inflame already hurt feelings.

A bitter and icy laugh emanated from the redhead. "Oh, so it's all my fault! You two are perfectly innocent, is that it? Fine, it's all my fault. I've been pushing you two into doing this entire time!"

She smiled a cruel, mocking smile. "And now, now that I want to stop, you want to keep going? That's rich!"

Her icy gaze locked onto James next. "Rich. Ha! That's perfect. Especially coming from you, James!"

"Where are you going with that?" James growled. His normally calm voice carried tone of menace that went unnoticed.

"If you've wanted to quit all this time, then you should've just left. Why don't you just quit Team Rocket while you're at it? You're the only one on this team with any actual family to go back to," Jessie spat. "Go on! Run back to Mommy, Daddy, and Jessebelle. Get married, be rich again, and maybe, if you ask nicely, they'll even buy you an actual spine!"

Meowth hardly believed his eyes when James slapped Jessie across the face and from the look in their eyes, neither did they. Echoes of her earlier scream were swallowed by the crisp sound of his glove against her face. The sound seemed to carry across the mountain and into the surrounding woods before eventually dissipating into the silence. Even then, some part of the sound continued to echo in their minds. Jessie stumbled back from the blow, her stunned expression aimed to the mountainside.

In all the years they had been together, James had never struck her like that. Part of Meowth wanted to believe that someone else had done it. The James he knew couldn't have pulled that off; it had to be someone else. James had always been placid and compliant, save for those tiny cracks.

He had endured bites from Victreebel, painful hugs with Cacnea and head nibbles by Carnivine without protest. Years of verbal abuse from his own teammates had been tolerated. Even the forced reduction of his beloved bottle cap collection had been somewhat taken in stride. It was then that Meowth realized that despite everything the world had thrown at him, no one had ever actually truly set James off. But when Jessie threw his pedigree in his face, she had crossed the line.

The only sound now left was James' breathing, the angry expression on his face held for a few seconds before dissolving into concern. He stared at offending hand, then back to Jessie, then back to his hand.

"Jessie…I'm sorry! I just…I got so angry I…I wasn't thinki—" James' apology was cut short when his partner's boot slammed into his stomach. Yanmega's wings gave off a hum that Meowth could only assume was satisfaction while Wobbuffet was still gaping from the initial slap. James roared when her heel dug into his gut until he grabbed her ankle, backing away with her leg in tow until she lost balance and fell.

Jessie swiped at his ankles with her free leg, bringing him to his knees. A punch to his face was exchanged for a full body lunge. Soon, the two were sprawled out on the mountain footpath as they furiously wrestled.

***

"Are we really going to let them do this?" Wobbuffet asked.

"Sometimes ya gotta jus' let'em get it outta dere system," Meowth replied, his face grim as he watched his partners roll across the ground. The fight didn't last long, a few minutes at best. The two weren't fighters by any stretch of the imagination. James sat on Jessie's stomach, pinning her wrists to the ground.

***

"You're wrong Jessie," he panted; the shimmer in his eyes made her struggles against his grip cease. "I don't have a family to go to if I leave Team Rocket. In spite of everything, you are my family, Jess. You. Meowth. Wobbuffet. Our pokémon. They're all family to me. So don't you dare tell me to leave!"

James's composure shattered with the last word, his hands slid from Jessie's wrists to hang at his sides. An anguished sob left his lowered head, shoulders shuddering with each heave until he teetered and fell onto his side. Jessie lay where she had been pinned, taking deep breaths to calm herself. Whatever thoughts were going through her head seemed determined on cracking her resolve if her glistening eyes were any indication.

"I can't keep doing this." Her voice hitched; the words were like a realization, confession, and declaration all in one. "We can't keep doing this," she hastily added. "I feel like I'm wasting my life on this chase. I've given years of my life to this mission. I know I can't get those back but I'll be damned if I give any more. If you want to keep going at this…I won't stop you."

Jessie blinked back the tears and failed, letting them flow down the sides of her face and mix with her makeup. She didn't care anymore; she was sure she already looked like hell and tears weren't going to make her look any worse than she already felt.

The night air grew silent once more. The sting and aches of the duo's cuts and bruises was their only comfort.

Eventually the silence was broken when Jessie gave a long and exasperated sigh, almost as if she were deflating. "I'm sorry, James. I shouldn't have said that earlier. I know it's a sensitive subject and I'm sorry I brought it up. I guess I just never understood how you could throw it all away. I mean, we saw with our own eyes what your parents and fiancée are like."

The trio visibly shivered in unison at the memory, leaving Yanmega and Wobbuffet to wonder at the horrors they had seen. "But for all that money…" Jessie's voice trailed off, her eyes closing when she spoke. "I think about how my life would've been different if we'd switched places. You didn't want people choosing your life for you but growing up I wish I had someone to point me in a direction. I didn't know what I wanted to do with myself. Everything I tried blew up in my face and sent me back to square one. Life was hard for me; I begged, stole and scavenged just to get by. Even eating snow when things were desperate."

"You're not the only one who knows what that's like. I wasn't always in the lap of luxury," James muttered.

"Right…" Jessie whispered back, clearly having forgotten that James had tasted a bit of what she had gone through. "I joined Team Rocket because I figured I'd follow in my mother's footsteps and in a way I'd feel close to my mother again. They told me that she was the boss's greatest agent and how she never gave up on a mission.

"Those were some big shoes to fill. I wasn't like that at all. I gave up on anything the moment I failed it and I didn't want this to be one of those times. That's probably why we've been at this for so long. In the end, her vaunted tenacity, was what ended up killing her."

Jessie sighed as she recalled her mother's memories. "As much as I love her, I don't want to walk down that same path. I'm not going to waste my life to this mission."

No one spoke for a good while. What could any of them say? James had been trying to run away from his old life and Meowth was just trying to find a way to put food in his belly. By comparison, their reasons for joining Team Rocket shriveled pathetically in the face of hers.

"…Okay." James eventually sighed.

"Okay what?" Jessie half-asked, half-demanded.

"If you want to quit chasing after that twerp and his Pikachu, I quit too. Wherever you go Jess, I'm coming with you. We're a team and I promised I would never let you down if I could help it."

"Me too," Meowth added, "No matta where ya go, I'm comin wit ya too."

"Me three!" Wobbuffet chimed in, which Jessie and James heard only as the cry of his own name.

A trio of weak smiles graced their features when the first fingers of dawn reached into the sky beyond the mountain.

"It's morning," James said wistfully.

"I guess we should get some sleep," Jessie said with a yawn, returning Yanmega and Wobbuffet to their pokéballs.

"We can call da boss fer help in da mornin," Meowth said through a yawn, plopping down next to them and settling down on the stone. They had slept in worse places and part of being a Team Rocket field agent was learning how to catch a few winks in any sort of terrain. Within minutes they were out cold and snoring up a storm, ignorant to the sun's slow but majestic arc across the sky.

***

It was midday when they awoke. The cloudy skies above spared them the worst of the sun's harsh rays. But old habits die hard; the first thoughts to enter their minds were of the schemes they would pull on the twerps, until they realized they would no longer be pursuing Pikachu. The realization was like a weight lifted, followed by concern with the uncertainty of their future.

"Rest well?" James asked.

"Well enough, but I'm starvin'," Meowth chimed in.

"We left most of our food back where we caught the twerp and his Gligar," Jessie said with a sigh. As if for emphasis, three growling stomachs echoed through the rocky plain.

"I could try russlin' up some food from da berries in da forest." Meowth pointed his paw to the woods below.

"Take Yanmega and Wobbuffet with you, we'll contact the boss and see if we can get a ride."

Meowth nodded, awaiting the twin flashes of his companions before making his way down the mountainside. James fished into one of his back pockets and pulled out a comlink that connected them to command. Usually they phoned a special line to requisition costumes, equipment, Meowth balloons, and mechas for when they entered the next town. Traveling by balloon would be too slow for them to complete their cross-region journey in a timely manner. They had been ordering various materials for years — long enough that Giovanni generally cleared their requests without a second thought. As long as it wasn't too expensive.

Team Rocket R&D loved making and sending them the mechas they used for their daily schemes. They saw it as an opportunity to push their equipment to the breaking point and beyond. As a result, they expected detailed reports with regards to the mechas' performance and failure mechanism. Other methods of transport generally required Giovanni's clearance.

James and Jessie listened and waited while the device rang. Though they didn't voice it, they were grateful that this comlink was voice only; one could tolerate the disapproving and irritated glare that Giovanni transmitted through a vidlink for so long. The device crackled to life, asking them for their password which took the form of their motto. Once their voices had been recognized by the system and verified as being theirs, they were put through to Giovanni's office.

Strangely, what greeted them wasn't Giovanni's deep, electronically distorted voice. Instead, it was a woman.

"This is Sinnoh Team Rocket field agents James and Jessie; I believe we asked to be in contact with the boss," Jessie said into the device's mic.

"I'm his secretary, Matori," the voice replied, her tone cool and clinical. "Giovanni is currently busy with other matters that require his attention at the moment. However, I may be able to assist you in his stead. What is your request?"

"We're requesting transportation to Canalave City"

"What happened to the Gliscor prototype that was sent to you?"

"We found that it couldn't stand up to the real thing."

"I see," Matori replied, dragging out the last word as she perused through their profiles on her tablet. Slow and agonizing seconds of silence ensued, making them wonder whether the call had dropped or the other side had simply hung up.

"Is there any particular reason you do not wish to simply use another Meowth balloon?" she asked.

"We thought it better to get to the other side of the region as quickly as possible. We haven't been having too much luck in this part of the region," James replied.

"Does this have anything to do with a certain electric pokémon?" Matori asked as she scrolled through rows and rows of reports, each attributing their failure to one particular rodent.

"Technically it does," Jessie jumped in, "But we've decided that it would be better for the future of Team Rocket if we pursued something else. We're hoping the other side of the region hasn't heard of us yet and we'll be able to exploit that."

"Please hold while I review your case."

***

Matori leaned back in her chair and sighed. She was almost afraid to scroll down any further, seeing that many of their reports dated back to before she had even been hired. It came as no surprise that her boss had either forgotten or out and out repressed the existence about these particular field agents. She leaned forward again, adjusting her glasses with the heel of her palm as she looked through their profiles on her tablet again.

"They've been after this one Pikachu for years. Doesn't Giovanni already have several high-level Raichu? Why would he even need one Pikachu? They've repeatedly stated in their reports that this is no ordinary Pikachu…" Matori's eyes flitted back and forth across the lines of text. A list of pokémon the mouse had defeated had appeared, ranging from a Rhydon to a Regice.

"Interesting…though it doesn't really excuse so many years of misused funding. I'm surprised to hear Giovanni hasn't already fired them. Then again, we're not really in the position where we could let go of agents. We still need every bit of manpower we can get.

"There has to be some reason Giovanni is keeping them around. Okay, let's see. Jessie… Miyamoto was her mother? Her results during training were promising but found difficulty working with others until she was paired with her current partner. How about James…" Matori switched windows and brought up James's dossier.

The sheer number of times Matori had raised her eyebrows in such a short period of time practically etched lines into her forehead.

"Son and heir to his family estate and fortune; no wonder Giovanni's keeping him. Knowing him he's considered using this man for ransom should he prove too much trouble to keep or as another way of eventually planting seeds into the Kantonian aristocracy." The woman read off James's dossier.

Matori reviewed the allocation of the team's funds. Unsurprisingly, most of it went to food, transport, costumes, and field equipment.

"Apparently these two played a part in forcing Hoenn's Team Magma and Team Aqua to dissolve. According to the R&D department, their frequent field tests have provided some insight for improvements on the structural weaknesses of vehicles and equipment we actually use in the field. But even if I were to send them a transport, what could quickly make the journey from Kanto to Sinnoh and back?"

Matori minimized the profiles and opened up their inventory, glancing over several aircraft. Most of them were currently in use, either by the construction arm of Team Rocket, for transport or on other missions. Those that weren't being used lacked the range to make the trip. Waiting for one to be freed up would take too long and slow down both parties. It wasn't long before she found one particular model that caught her eye. It was listed as one of Giovanni's personal transports. Mechanically, it was in perfect shape but according to one of the notes on file it was put into storage for somehow reminding him of failure.

"That sounds like him," Matori said to herself. She read the specs of the craft. It was an interesting design — a hybrid of a helicopter and jet that combined the best of both aircraft: the speed and maneuverability of a jet with the vertical takeoff and hovering capability of a helicopter. Unfortunately, it came at the cost of high fuel consumption and maintenance.

"Taking the distance into the consideration, it should be able to make the trip there and back with minimal stops to refuel." The secretary examined the model of the aircraft and nodded. "It's probably too good for this team, but it's fast and should be able to get the job done quickly and quietly. Giovanni hasn't used it in years seeing as Dr. Zager was already designing a new aircraft for future operations in Unova. I doubt he'll miss this one."

Again, Matori examined Jessie and James's dossiers. "Granted, with their track record, I really shouldn't approve their request for this aircraft. But maybe I can send someone to take them where they need to go."

Matori closed the windows, sending a message to ping the first available pilot for a pick-up and drop-off mission.

"Canalave? Butch and Cassidy have reported rumors about a new team surfacing in that region. Most of their exploits have been regarding museum pieces. Its library is well-known for its vast archives of historical artifacts and tomes. These three may be onto something. They have the makings of a great team; this just may be their big break." Matori unmuted herself and took the call off hold.

***

"After looking through your profiles and history, I regret to inform you that at the present moment there are no available transports Giovanni can spare to send you for your personal use. However, I may be able to send someone to deliver you to your destination. Seeing as you utilized all of your funds on the last prototype you ordered, the cost for fuel and maintenance will be deducted from the next stipend you receive."

"That'll do just fine," James replied, making no effort to hide the relief in his voice.

"How soon can we expect them to pick us up?" Jessie asked.

"It may take some time for the transport to get to you from Kanto to Sinnoh. The earliest I can imagine it arriving would be tonight; the pilot will need to refuel at the coast before dropping you off. Please leave your device on so our satellites can locate you and send the coordinates to the pilot. Will that be all for today?"

"That will be all for now," James said, waiting for the line to go dead before he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"Things are gonna change for the better." Jessie's hand landed on his own and made him smile.

"I found some grub!" Meowth called out and made their heads turn, followed by an angry buzz and a loud, "Woobb!"

"Okay! Okay! We found some grub," the cat amended, dropping an assortment of berries on the ground before them. "How'dit go?"

"We got a ride, it'll be here tonight," Jessie replied.

"Whaddya wanna do 'til den?"

"We could work on a new motto, or maybe we could go back to the old one? It'll definitely sound new to people who aren't the twerps," James suggested.

"I don't think we've quite worn out this motto just yet," Jessie interjected, picking up a berry and holding up before them. "For now though, a toast to what I hope will be the last time we see the twerps."

James grabbed his own berry and held up as well, "To no longer blasting off after every failure."

"Ta actually bein da best membas of Team Rocket, 'an finally havin da boss be prouda us!" Meowth added, pressing his meal against theirs. Not to be outdone, Wobbuffet added his berry to the mix and ultimately had the last word with the utterance of his name.

"Cheers!" they cried and raised the fruit to their lips.

***

At some point while they had waited Jessie had fallen asleep, her head resting in the crook of her partner's neck and shoulder. If James minded, he said nothing and rested with his cheek pressed against the top of her head. Meowth's body was sprawled across the ground beside them, snoring softly and masking the distant sound of the rotor blades until it drew closer.

They began to stir once the sound grew louder, but it wasn't until they were sprayed with gravel and dirt that the slumber was truly torn from their eyes. The glossy H-shaped windshield faced them for a few seconds before it turned away to reveal the row of windows on the sides. Two ducted rotors flanking the craft pivoted as it gently touched down on the rocky ground.

The door slid open as they approached, revealing a spacious interior with enough room to comfortably fit at least eight agents. Meowth recognized the model as the type that had chased him and his clone during a siege against Mewtwo in the Johto region. That version was armed with a chin-mounted paralysis turret whereas this one appeared to be unarmed. Once the trio was inside and seated, the side door slid back into place and the whine of the engines spooling up echoed through the cabin.

"Thanks for the pickup." James yawned; the pilot's response was the press of a button that shut the door between their section and his, his back turned to them the entire time. While roomy, the chairs were built with numerous sharp right angles. James had tried several positions before simply giving up and doing his best to nod off while sitting upright. It quickly became a fruitless effort when the slightest rumble shook him back to consciousness.

James wondered how late it was, if only to gauge how long he would need to put up with shifting in and out of sleep. From what he could see there were no visible clocks, leaving only the cockpit with a taciturn pilot. Whether by instinct or choice, Jessie's body had slowly migrated over to him once more. The high altitude and night air made him slightly grateful for the warmth. Slightly, if only because of what her proximity did to him.

It had taken everything in his power to keep his cool when he had first seen Jessie during their Team Rocket training. At first he had thought Jessebelle had found him again. The thought of escaping the premises had entered his head numerous times. At that moment, it seemed as though nowhere in civilized society was safe from his fiancée and parents.

It wasn't until Sergeant Viper prompted Jessie to speak that he felt some of the tension leave his body. Despite her fervent desire to marry into his family, Jessebelle's headstrong personality demanded that everyone else change for her. Taking the time to remove her thick Southern drawl would've been too much effort for his sake. In comparison, molding James to her liking was child's play.

The resemblance was as frightening as it was uncanny, almost enough to make James wonder if somehow the two were related by blood. Even though their similarities were more than skin deep, there were certain differences that made her preferable than Jessebelle.

Jessie's skill with a chain (an artifact from her days as "Chainer Jessie") was much like Jessebelle's mastery of the whip. That said; Jessie had never used that skill against him, unlike his fiancée who saw her groom as a wild animal to be broken to her will. Like Jessebelle, Jessie had a temper that could only be described as "volcanic". As a result, Meowth and James were often the target of her fury. Compared to Jessie's explosive bursts of pique, Jessebelle's displeasure was cold and insidious; she did not lash out but instead, honed her anger into something with purpose and cruelty.

At first James was happy that his partner was his fiancée's spitting image. Not only did it keep the relationship strictly professional, it was a constant reminder of what he faced should he decide to leave Team Rocket. Jessebelle's face became a symbol of servitude and pain but over the years he had stopped seeing his fiancée when he looked at his partner in crime.

"She looks so…calm," James thought, unaccustomed to seeing the fiery woman so subdued and tranquil. Her lips parted slightly when she breathed, the ever-present lipstick was now wiped away.

She really doesn't need it. If she only she left her hair down and…

James shook his head as if to shake the train of thought from his mind.

I shouldn't be thinking about this. I'm not going to make things awkward between us. It's taken us years to be completely comfortable around each other and I'm not going to ruin that. What I have with her right now…it's probably the best thing I've ever had with another person.

"Dese two don't need de opposite sex cause dey got each odda." Meowth's words from years back echoed in his mind. Meowth himself was snoring softly in one of the seats he had sprawled upon, absentmindedly scratching himself in his sleep.

"I guess I just never understood how you could throw it all away." Jessie's words echoed within his head.

If there had been a way to get rid of Jessebelle, if I could have at least chosen who I wanted to marry…as long as I got married… would my parents even care who it was? They picked Jessebelle because they wanted me to shape up, but Jessie's always been the one to give structure to my life, to our missions at least. Would my parents be able to see that?

A part of him knew they wouldn't. Regardless of whether Jessie could be good for him the way his fiancée was supposed to be; it was a choice he had made. And that automatically made it invalid. Jessie wasn't a noblewoman or even wealthy, making her chances at being a potential wife nonexistent.

Would they even need to know it was her? We could get rid of Jessebelle and all Jessie would need to do is change up her hair and her voice. That wouldn't be difficult, it's not like we haven't dressed up and changed our voices to fool the twerps and the rest of the world.

"I gave up on anything that I ever tried and I didn't want this to be one of those times," the redhead's voice again rang within James's head.

"Marrying you…it would be so much easier," James whispered, hoping everyone was too deeply asleep to hear him. A stray magenta strand of hair hung over Jessie's brow until he gently pushed it back behind her ear. She smiled and mumbled something drowsily, but James figured she must've been having a pleasant dream.

If I had to marry someone, I can't think of anyone I would marry but her. Then again I don't really know any women besides her. Would she even marry me?

"But for all that money…" The memory of Jessie's voice taunted him.

She might. She would do it for the money. But we…we could be happy. We wouldn't need to do this anymore. I could inherit my family's fortune and estate and could even fund Team Rocket. We could support them in that way, it wouldn't mean she was giving up!

Meowth's sudden screams derailed his train of thought and roused Jessie from her sleep. Before they could even ask him what was wrong, a flash from Jessie's pokéballs filled the room. When the light dimmed Wobbuffet, Yanmega, and Seviper appeared in the rows of seats behind them. Carnivine and Mime Jr. were next to appear on the rows of seats before them. But there was no head nibble from the grass type. That was the first signal that something was terribly wrong. Instead, what filled the void of the absent ritual were anguished screams straight out of their worst nightmares.

Meowth's claws were extended, carving into cushions with every cry. The stuffing bled out through the rips. His normally calm eyes were narrow slits, unfocused and wild like the raised hair and menacing stance he had suddenly adopted.

They had seen Meowth under the influence of several things over the years, but nothing compared to the feral creature that he had transformed into. Jessie suddenly felt James's arms wrap around her waist before he pulled her to the floor between the rows of seats where he joined her.

James's heart momentarily stopped as he felt the rush of air from a swipe of Meowth's claws that narrowly missed his head.

Yanmega pinballed off the walls, each impact leaving behind a large dent. The grotesque shape of a pokémon slamming against solid metal abruptly stopped when the Ogre Darner crashed into Meowth. In too much pain to stop himself, the Scratch Cat tumbled down the aisle until he collided with the bulkhead at the opposite end of the craft, mercifully rendering himself unconscious. Wobbuffet's lanky arms wrapped around his bloated blue body as he rocked like a demented metronome. Mime Jr. writhed on the floor, caught in the throes of this mysterious affliction. Carnivine opened his spiny maw and began firing Bullet Seeds, every spasm unleashing another salvo in a random direction. Some bounced harmlessly off the bulkhead; others punched holes in the aircraft's thin metal fuselage.

Seviper contorted and writhed, every convulsion caused his razored tail to swing wildly. Yanmega eventually stopped careening throughout the interior and settled for flailing in mid-air, vibrating her wings until it seemed that they had disappeared. The ensuing screech swallowed everyone's screams and blew out every window. The shattered fragments were sucked out into the ravenous emptiness outside and lost to the winds.

Whether an involuntary attack or a simple attempt to make the pain and noise stop, Carnivine unleashed a barrage of seeds at the Ogre Darner pokémon, heedless of whether anyone was in his path.

Unfortunately, Wobbuffet happened to be right in the line of fire. The Patient Pokémon shuddered with every projectile that ripped through him until he eventually succumbed to the barrage. His body teetered and eventually fell over into a pool of his own blood. Yanmega fared far worse. The near point-blank barrage of Bullet Seed had reduced Yanmega's body into something that best described as "chunky green sludge".

Bits of membranous wing fluttered about like morbid confetti, dancing to the raging hiss of air rushing out from the innumerable holes in the cabin walls. Streaks of lavender marked the frantic slashes from Seviper's tail, even his own body bore the scars of the thrashing. James watched as his Carnivine continued firing at random. The bluenette's eyes widened as the gaping maw faced him. He shuddered, awaiting the inevitable barrage of seeds that would tear through his body.

But they never came. A flash of gleaming black and purple bit deep into Carnivine's throat.

Carnivine's ovoid head rolled when it hit the floor, rocking back and forth before its jagged maw limply parted. Seviper's hisses grew weaker and weaker until a heavy thud and a clatter marked his fall. And an end to the chaos.

Jessie's heart was beating equally hard against James's own. While some small part of them enjoyed the other's presence and proximity, a larger part of them wanted nothing more than to stay still and hope the universe overlooked them.

Seconds stretched into eternities while James's mind was still in freefall. Wind whistled through the riddled walls and sparks rained from the remnants of the cabin lights. Jessie was the first to slowly rise off her partner and look around the room.

Meowth lay still against a large dent in the showing where he had hit the bulkhead. There was more red and purple than blue on Wobbuffet's body, his mouth and pseudo eyes unrecognizable with dozens of wet and crimson burrows that marred his body. Blood trickled down the Seviper's sleek obsidian scales, each wound another self-inflicted scar for the future.

Jessie ran over to the cockpit door. Her fear had been replaced by her Team Rocket training. On autopilot, she practically punched the button. The door creaked as its damaged motors struggled to open it. James watched his fellow field agent; he could see the muscles in her body tensed and ready to strike. She already knew which of the pilot's compartments had the medical kit; her worries of who could be actually saved would need to wait until she could try and treat them. It was as the doors began to part that Jessie noticed the holes that riddled the metal.

James watched his partner's initial attempt at a lunge and saw that the distance she traveled could've been measured in millimeters. Her stance shifted when she flinched; the determined look in her eyes faltered and gave way to surprise. One step away from the door became two, then three. When she said nothing James ran to her side, seeing what had stopped her in her tracks.

The clear windshield was covered with a red film and instead of the faint odor of hydraulic fluid and lubricants, there was the overpowering animal stench of iron.

The pilot's body was slumped over and sprawled across the controls; a single red light blinked amidst the cerise coated controls. The fact that the autopilot was still on gave them little comfort as they watched the blood trickle down the sides of his seat, feeding into the growing pool at the base.

James felt as though his blood had left his face the join the pool, his body suddenly cold and his head felt light. It wasn't his first time seeing blood; yet no matter how many times he saw it, any ounce of courage he had drained away with the blood from his face. Bile rose into his throat as he looked up from the pool and saw what had decorated the controls. Bits of plastic from the pilot's helmet were scattered amidst the brain and bone fragments that pasted the console. A series of blinking numbers caught his attention and finally gave James an answer to one of his questions.

It was 12:03 AM.


	2. Two for the Show

I'd like to take this moment to really thank Zarrelion for his help with this chapter.

***

11:57 PM

***

"Just three more," Dawn thought as she held up Johanna's first ribbon to the night sky. The priceless memento, its orange ribbons faded to a dusty yellow by the years, caught the dim moonlight; the still burnished medallion softly glowed in the light as if it were radiating old memories.

"I caught a Swinub a few days ago. He's always hungry, but he knows a few ice moves. I've already thought of a bunch of combinations with him and Buneary or even Piplup. Maybe I'll introduce you to him when we see each other again over videophone," she whispered into an imaginary telephone handset.

A small part of her practically heard her mother reply. Another part of her found the whole notion to be silly — childish even — but the whole rehearsal provided some comfort for Dawn

A bizarre buzzing snore briefly lifted the silence of the night before letting it rush back in like a wave upon the shore. Dawn stifled a giggle behind her hand as she stuffed the trinket into her bag with the other ribbons. She turned her gaze to the raven-haired trainer from Pallet Town, sleeping deeply beside his electric starter, Pikachu. Brock twisted and mumbled in his sleeping bag; wistful and unintelligible murmurs were all she could decipher from him.

"You're lucky to have such good friends," Johanna's phantom voice echoed in her head.

"You're right," she whispered back with a smile. Dawn never had siblings, but she couldn't help but feel that this is what it would be like to have older brothers.

Despite his quirks around other girls, Brock never ceased to impress her with his knowledge of pokémon and his skills as a cook. Ash's unyielding determination was admirable, never allowing an obstacle or setbacks to keep him down for long. It was the admiration of that persistence that kept some part of her going during the rougher patches of her own journey. That said, Ash's persistence often manifested itself in his laser-like focus on pokémon and related subjects. Talking to him about anything else was quite a difficult task.

Dawn's thoughts were broken when she noticed Pikachu's ears twitch in the stillness of the night. Normally, she'd pay no heed to it but since there was nothing else to notice, she turned her gaze towards the electric mouse's ears.

A muted groan issued from Pikachu's sleeping form. It wasn't a groan of pain — more like a groan from a bad dream or an uncomfortable sleep.

Dawn paid Pikachu no heed, until the muted crackling of electrical discharges grabbed her full attention. She noticed sparks beginning to dance across his fur as he began to twitch. Her stomach dropped as she realized that she was about to witness something horrible.

Bursts of light turned night into day. The silent night was shattered by a hellish symphony of groans and squeals. Brock and Ash woke up immediately, their grogginess rapidly traded for guarded glances.

Before the two of them could do anything more than watch, Pikachu darted away from them. He managed a few meters until he stumbled, slid across the dirt and rolled with his paws pressed against his temples as if trying to keep his head from bursting.

Piplup's cries tore Dawn's attention away from Pikachu. Whirling around, she was treated to the sight of bubbles pouring from the penguin pokémon's parted beak. But these bubbles sounded different, instead of a tiny pop, each burst bubble came with a thunderous roar. Wooden splinters and leaves flew into the air as each projectile impacted against the surrounding trees. The water starter's eyes were scrunched tight; every bubble sending his body into convulsions.

Ambipom's tails whirled around her body like whips. Each swing launched forth a salvo of stars. Some of the stars shattered against the trees leaving glittering dust hanging in the air; others sliced through thick trunks, leaving faint red embers behind.

Chimchar's convulsions finally got the better of him as he curled into a ball. With a surge of heat that charred the nearby trees, flames enveloped his body. The fireball jittered for a brief moment before it rocketed deep into the woods, leaving a trail of burning debris behind.

The crash of falling trees briefly drowned out the tortured cries of the pokémon. At some point Dawn and the others had slipped out of their sleeping bags but stood frozen as they watched the grotesque tableau unfold.

Streaks of lavender flashed around Croagunk's head as he seemingly tried to split his own head open. Turtwig and Gliscor rammed into everything and anything nearby in a desperate attempt to make their pain stop; it was to no avail, the trees splintered under the savage blow, doing nothing to assuage their pain.

Pikachu's body had begun to grow brighter — almost as if there were a light within him. At the same time, the electrical hum that emanated from him grew to an almost deafening level. Ash suppressed his rising tide of fear as he approached his starter. He took no more than two steps before a small bolt struck his shoulder. A quavering yell escaped the trainer's lips before vicious spasms silenced him.

Brock rushed to catch the convulsing trainer and not a moment too soon. His legs buckled as if from a kick. Ash's head was thrown back as if by a blow from an invisible fist; his signature hat went flying over Brock's shoulder. Ash's arms seized and trembled, muscles jittering and lips contorted into a painful rictus.

Then, as if someone had hit an invisible switch, Ash collapsed into Brock's hold. The older trainer gently lowered him to the ground. In those brief seconds, they had never seen a more unsettling sight. It appeared that incredible strength of will and tenacity that had served Ash so well over the years had finally collided with the hard limits of his body.

Pikachu lashed out with whips of lightning, scorching the dirt and crowning the blades of grass with glowing embers. Dozens of electric tendrils arced from his body, tracing an unseen pattern across the forest floor, as if goaded to dance at his cries.

"Dawn, help me with Ash!" Brock roared over the din of the chaos, backpedaling as fast as he could with Ash's body in tow. The young coordinator stood frozen, blankly staring back into the breeder's squinted eyes.

Some part of her understood the words, but how to respond or put them to action drew up nothing in her mind.

"His legs!" he barked. "Grab his legs!"

A flash and a sudden chill broke her out of her trance; the sleeping bag she had been in only seconds ago was crowned with shards of ice.

Brock's command suddenly registered and she flew to his side, reaching down to grab Ash's ankles. Lifting him wasn't hard with Brock shouldering most of the weight; the difficulty came with knowing she was leaving her pokémon behind. Pale blue bolts of ice and stars darted across the corners of her vision. A glance over Brock's shoulder revealed the terrain ahead of them as a patchwork of ice and forest.

Stones and twigs bit through the fabric of her socks and into her skin; every yelp came as a reminder that all she had were literally the clothes on her back. A hesitantly raised and still shaky arm pointed back to the carnage they were fleeing from. Dawn gazed into Ash's eyes and although she could see herself in their glossy sheen; she knew his stare went straight through her.

Night turned into day once more as her shadow stretched ahead as if to steal a few more meters of safety. Dawn dared not look back, all her mental energies focused on blocking out the noise that begged her to turn her head out of morbid curiosity. Looking back would immediately destroy her mental fortitude. With every meter they put behind, the soundtrack of madness softened ever so slightly.

As their maddened flight lengthened, their steps shortened and slowed. Lured by the illusion of safety granted by their distance, they began to relax.

Only milliseconds after they let their guard down, the air around them exploded into a deafening roar. The flash and crash of thunder were seamless; the earth beneath their feet trembled as the wall of sound hit them and knocked them to the ground.

An incessant ringing had devoured all sound. Any noise they heard came muffled, as if through a wall or under water. In the darkness behind their closed eyes their awareness shrunk inward; the entirety of their world had regressed to the surface of their bodies. They lay on the ground for some time; heartbeats and strained breathing their only link to the passage of time.

It was as if their bodies feared to move at first; afraid of having the façade of safety ripped from them once more. Subtle details once overlooked stood out like beacons. As if to compensate for her temporary deafness, Dawn had become hyperaware of the dirt beneath her fingers, the fabric of Ash's shirt against her face and the sound of his thundering heart. She slowly pushed herself off of him. Brock took the sudden lessening of weight as his cue to wriggle out from underneath them.

Dawn and Brock moved about wordlessly, leaving the distant crackle of fire to fill in the gap of conversation. Brock's hand reached down to grab Ash's own as he helped him to his feet. He slung the arm over his shoulder while Dawn took the hint and did the same for the other.

After a few tentative steps, Ash was able to support some of his own weight. They lifted their heads up slowly and gazed into the woods, a foreboding silence hanging over them like a fog. The trip back to their campsite was long and slow. Not because of the distance they had fled, but because their morbid curiosity forced them to look at the ravaged forest around them and the tortuous path they had took through the woods.

Happiny was the first to be found, surrounded by a ring of fallen trees and shredded stumps. Brock was immediately at her side and on his knees; Ash and Dawn could only watch as he held her in his arms and whispered softly to her. Dawn watched his hand tremble as it hung over her mouth to feel her breath. His attempts to put on a neutral face had already begun to crack.

"Brock…is she…" Ash's voice trailed off, his expression starting to darken at the implication.

The tension suddenly lifted from Brock's shoulders as a smile of relief softened his features. "She's okay. She's breathing. It just looks like she's unconscious." Brock returned the playhouse pokémon to her pokéball.

"Thank goodness." Dawn sighed, bringing her free hand to rest on her chest as if to still her beating heart. Ash smiled and let out a breath that he hadn't known he'd been holding.

"I think we should split up to find our pokémon," Ash said. Two sets of eyes bored into him with a gaze that was incredulous, concerned and angry.

"I dunno, Ash. I don't think you should be walking around too much; that last attack looked like—" the bluenette began.

"Guys, it's okay. I'm fine. I can walk without your help." Ash shrugged off Dawn's arm and took a few shaky steps but was able to stand without issue for a full minute.

"We should still make our way back to the campfire so we at least know where to come back to," Brock said. Ash and Dawn nodded their assent as they made their way over to his side.

***

Smoke wafted lazily from their belongings in the clearing, the scene eerily calm compared to what had transpired moments before. Astoundingly, none of their personal items appeared too worse for the wear, save for some minor scorching. Ash burst into a sprint at the first sight of yellow, halfway to his destination, his muscles gave out as he stumbled and fell to the ground. Dawn and Brock both cried out his name as they ran over to assist him.

But it was to no avail; Ash silenced the calls of his own name as his vision narrowed down to that yellow lump on the scorched earth. He inched his way over to Pikachu's fallen form; the electric mouse's back was to him and his tail lying flat against the ground.

He reached out but a single spark launched off the starter's fur making him unconsciously flinch away. The trainer stood frozen over Pikachu's body. Seconds ticked by until a solid minute of stillness and silence had passed.

Brock was about to warn the trainer against touching Pikachu; a single look at Dawn would have indicated that she was about to echo his message. Indeed, she was about to speak her mind until Brock placed a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. That simple action stole the words forming on her tongue.

All they needed to do was look at Ash to know that his feelings and thoughts mirrored their own. It was as if his hands had met a wall, his trembling fingers unable to close the last few inches between him and one of his oldest friends. The memory of the jolt was all too fresh in his mind; fear stayed his hands.

No further bolts leapt from his starter's fur but the initial spark and the risk of another one was all that was needed to immobilize him. Pain gradually overtook the fear that had taken residence on Ash's face. Dawn's breath hitched when Ash forced his hand onto Pikachu's body.

Nothing. There were no flashes of light or bolts of lightning. Nevertheless, Brock found that the sudden tension in his body refused to leave.

Ash turned Pikachu until the two were face-to-face; the moment for him was oddly reminiscent of the start of their journey after the Spearow attack. Except this time Pikachu's eyes were not open. In fact, if Ash didn't know any better, he could've sworn that his starter was blissfully asleep. The hand on Pikachu's body lowered and lifted slightly — a sign that he was still breathing.

"I think he's okay." Ash exhaled, the air that filled his lungs refreshing and exhilarating him. Brock moved over as he hastily checked the electric starter's vitals — not out of sloppiness but out of fear; Pikachu was a live wire that could be reenergized without warning. Satisfied that Pikachu's vitals were okay, he nodded in affirmation to the trainer.

"Ash, you should probably stay here while we get the other pokémon," Dawn suggested.

"Guys, I told you, I can walk just fine!" Ash countered as he pushed himself to his feet.

"If you're heading out, then I'd imagine you'll want to take Pikachu with you," Brock said. He then pointed to the inert form of the pokémon. "We really shouldn't move him around. Not when he's in that state."

Brock's reasoning stole some of the fire in his eyes, Ash's gaze lowered to the ground before relinquishing a nod. "Right…" Ash sighed, handing them some of his pokéballs.

"We'll bring them back as soon as we can," Dawn replied, taking two of the spheres while Brock grabbed three.

***

Brock had found Croagunk and Sudowoodo within the first few minutes of his search. Both of them were unconscious and surrounded by the remains of the forest. Despite the environmental havoc and a few scrapes, his remaining pokémon looked okay. A line of toppled trunks, jagged stumps and even uprooted trees ended where Ash's Turtwig and Gliscor lay still.

Finding Chimchar wasn't difficult considering the blazing trail he had left behind. The scent of burning wood and smoke filled the night air like incense and while it wasn't an awful smell, it wasn't pleasant either. Tiny embers crowned the tips of leafless branches hanging over the trail of scorched earth. Brock had found it hard to believe that the cause of the destruction was a foot tall fire chimp and not a plane crash.

As luck would have it, Brock found the fire chimp sprawled out atop a blackened section of earth. Getting closer he could see the flames around Chimchar's body sputtering like dying campfire.

As he approached, the trainer flinched backwards as waves of heat radiating off the open flames washed over him. He quickly gave up trying to find the pokémon's pulse; just placing his hands in the Chimp pokémon's vicinity was like sticking them into an active oven.

Brock aimed the pokéball at the fire starter. He watched as the energy beam connected, Chimchar dematerialized and the beam return to the sphere with its cargo.

"He'll be safer in there…but what was with that heat? Those flames were just like…" Brock paused for a moment, as if he were fiddling with the words.

"…the fires I cook with…"

Pokémon flames and the normal flames he used to cook had always been treated as something separate in his mind. It was a part of his everyday life; he just accepted it as a fact like how water was wet.

But now, he was forced to rethink his entire worldview. Brock's arm fell to his side, the pokéball still held firmly in his hands, but now shrunken to the size of a golf ball.

"Why are the flames different?" Brock thought. "Surely it's not a matter of intensity. Anything hot enough to be on fire should be hot enough to cause severe burns."

Scenes of Ash's Charizard drowning Ash and other opponents in torrents of orange flame flitted through his memory. It was certainly uncomfortable for the targets but they were never in any real danger.

"But why!? Why do pokémon flames not burn like…real flames?" Brock's brows were now furrowed in deep thought.

It was then he realized how stupid his choice of words sounded. "They're both real, but does this make one less real than the other? And it's not just fire; Pikachu's lightning was different too."

Brock had long lost count of how often Ash and Team Rocket got shocked by one of Pikachu's attacks. What he had witnessed minutes ago was nothing like the lightning Ash's starter had unleashed in all the years he'd been with them. Previously, the victims of the shock would end up covered in soot and stunned but otherwise unharmed. But now, it seemed like the lightning bolts were now capable of causing real injury.

"Team Rocket!" Brock growled. Several years' worth of experiences told him that whenever things went wrong, that persistent trio was involved, if not outright responsible. The woods around him suddenly took on a foreboding tone; every tree and path hid a potential trap.

His way back to camp was slow for he had to carefully probe the ground with a stick like a blind man with a cane. "This would be right up their alley. Knocking out our pokémon, making Pikachu and the others ripe for the picking," he thought.

With the end of that thought, the distressing realization that he and Dawn had left Ash and Pikachu vulnerable and alone came to the forefront of his mind. Brock moved briskly through the woods, not running but not walking either. Rushing straight to their camp would blind him to the signs of a pitfall trap or a snare. And Team Rocket preyed off of that kind of recklessness.

It was a surprise when he arrived not to find Team Rocket engaged in their latest plot but Ash wearing his signature hat as well as Pikachu and the camp relatively undisturbed.

"What do you think happened?" Ash asked.

"I'm not sure yet," Brock replied, between fast breaths. "Has Dawn come back yet?"

"No, not yet." Ash then noticed the pokémon breeder's tensed muscles and nervous glances. "Brock, what's wrong?"

"I can't be sure, but I think that Team Rocket might be behind what just happened. It seems like just the kind of thing they would do."

Ash nodded, casting quick glances to the forest around them.

"Dawn!" Brock yelled out, pausing for a moment before calling out again. A faint reply came carried back on the wind. Brock rushed out into the direction of the voice until he turned back and found Ash already shadowing him with Pikachu in his arms. Brock opened his mouth to say that Ash needed to stay, but the look in the young trainer's eyes brooked no argument.

Brock moved silently through the woods. To Ash's credit, he was able to keep up pace with him without too much difficulty. They found the bluenette standing over a large figure nestled into the grass.

"Dawn…are you okay?" Ash asked, squinting through the darkness to try and make out her features. Her reaction to their presence was delayed; her focus anchored onto the figure on the ground.

"I'm fine. I found my other pokémon along with your Buizel and Staravia. They all went back into their pokéballs, but when I got to Ambipom and tried returning her…" Dawn lifted and aimed the pokéball in her hand, firing a crimson beam at the purple monkey only to have it dissipate.

"I don't get it," Ash said, taking the pokéball into his hands. He felt for dents in the darkness but its smooth metal shell was unmarred. "Maybe it's broken inside?" He looked over to Brock for some support.

The breeder was already kneeling over the Long Tail pokémon, his only illumination coming from what little moonlight managed to filter through the branches overhead.

The reek of burnt hair was the first thing to reach Brock's nose as he knelt down. From what he could feel, some patches on Ambipom's body were hotter than others. He carefully rolled Ambipom onto her back and probed the skin around her neck.

Seconds painfully ticked by; Brock could feel Dawn and Ash's stares boring into his back. But no matter how deeply he pressed or how long he waited, no pressure passed beneath his fingertips. Brock's body abruptly dropped onto Ambipom, his ear pressed against her chest. Trying to hear her heartbeat became harder and harder as the sound of his own racing heart beat into his ears.

Everything he knew about pokémon anatomy seemed useless in his frantic search for something helpful. Brock lifted off her body, placing his hands onto her chest and pressing down.

"Was it ten reps or twenty?" Brock's gaze drifted over to Ambipom's mouth, knowing what he might have to do.

"Now's not the time to be grossed out…but do I even need to try? How long has it been since her heart stopped, since her brain's been without oxygen?" he thought.

"Brock," Ash began, only to flinch when the breeder's head abruptly lifted to face him. "Is…there anything we can do?"

Brock lowered his gaze to the ground; the compressions on Ambipom's chest momentarily stopped. "Uh, Y-yeah. Can Dawn and you go back to the clearing and bring back a revive from my bag? You know what it looks like, right?"

Ash nodded furiously, immediately making way towards their encampment until he noted Dawn was still standing in place. "Dawn…"

"I wanna stay." Despite the stern reply there was a fear in her voice, her gaze never leaving her pokémon.

Ash took a step towards her with his arm lifted until Brock's voice cut through the momentary quiet. "Ash, it's fine, she can stay. Just go. And bring my flashlight and a super potion as well."

The trainer nodded once more before breaking into a run. Ash's footfalls faded into the background as Brock continued his chest compressions. A heavy stillness permeated through the woods, broken only by Dawn's tremulous voice.

"Brock…what's wrong with her?" Dawn managed to choke out the words without completely falling apart as she spoke.

The breeder continued pumping on Ambipom's chest as he replied. "I…I can't say for sure, Dawn. At least not right now."

"That's a lie!" Brock's conscience lashed out at him. "That's a lie and you know it! You know exactly what's wrong! You know exactly what happened! You just don't want to believe it did. You never thought it could happen to us. It was something other people needed to worry about, never us! I wanna be wrong, but if I'm right…how am I gonna break it to them? This won't be Ash's first time facing this. But Celebi, Latios and Lucario were different. This is someone that he's known for so much longer. And Dawn…she's just started getting her confidence back. This'll—"

"I'm back!" Ash yelled. Brock immediately ceased the chest compressions as Ash handed him the diamond-shaped pill and super potion. Brock set down the super potion and pried open Ambipom's mouth. He quickly dropped the pill into her mouth and waited for it to take effect.

Revives were a potent cocktail of various stimulants that were designed to jumpstart the body and contained inside a fast-dissolving capsule. They were pricy but Brock had always made sure to keep a few handy just in case of extreme emergencies.

"Ash, did you bring the flashlight?" Brock asked.

The trainer quickly dug into his pocket and handed it to him. He looked over to Dawn who still stood rooted to the spot he'd left her at. Brock peeled Ambipom's eyelids back and shone a beam of light directly into them. Ash watched him hold the beam there, unsure of what Brock was trying to do but he knew better than to question it.

Seconds passed and the light began to shake in the breeder's hands, moving between her eye and her mouth. Brock quickly grabbed the potion and sprayed it onto Ambipom's fur, keeping the flashlight trained on her eye. A few agonizing seconds later, he clicked the flashlight off and lowered it to his side. A shuddering sigh left him when he leaned back and fell into a sitting position. "Guys," he started. Despite his attempts at keeping his voice neutral, it came out low and dark.

"No!" Dawn's gasp reached his ears through the hand over her mouth. She already knew his response.

"Ambipom is…" Brock trailed off to find a truthful, yet tactful way to break the news. "Gone." Brock stared into the darkness where Ash was standing and debated whether or not he should continue.

His conscience lashed him again. "They should know. They have a right to know! They'd want to know. They'll ask me sooner or later. Could I lie? Would they even buy it? They're smart. They can put the pieces together. They'll know that I know too, but will they know I did it to help them? They would forgive me…but could she forgive him?"

Brock lowered his gaze to the starter in Ash's arms. Feeling he should get it out of the way now, he let out a breath and spoke. "One of Pikachu's bolts must've accidentally hit her. The electricity probably stopped Ambipom's heart. By the time you found her…" Brock trailed off as he tried to keep control of his emotions. "She would've already been...it would've been painless, Dawn."

Dawn was unnaturally still as Ash got up and slowly backed away from the body. Despite his efforts to mitigate the damage, Brock couldn't help but feel he'd somehow made it worse. Ash didn't stop backing up until the fabric of his outfit pressed against the bark of a nearby tree. The coordinator slowly lowered herself to the floor, her breathing growing more and more shallow.

A pained hiss rushed through Ash's gritted teeth as he pulled his cap over his eyes with his free arm. He lifted his head, taking deep breaths through his nose.

Dawn was not so quiet with her grief; her cries grew louder with every ragged intake of breath. The sounds tore through them like knives.

In an attempt to prevent his emotions from exploding, Ash allowed himself to release a mix between a cough and cry. He slid down the tree as he desperately tried to shore up his crumbling composure.

The corners of Brock's eyes began to moisten as he pressed the butt of his palm to his forehead. Brock wept silently as he shook his head, grateful for the darkness that shrouded him and let him save face. Machismo aside; he was supposed to be the strong one of their group; the mature one. If they saw him cry it would only make the situation worse, so he had to keep calm. For their sake.

Brock moved away from Ambipom's body and made his way to Dawn, who had now fallen onto her side and curled into a sobbing ball. He placed his hand on her and felt her flinch beneath his palm.

"It's gonna be okay," said a hoarse voice he didn't recognize, until he realized it was his own. "It's gonna be okay." But those words felt hollow; simple platitudes that even he didn't believe. He pulled Dawn off the ground and into his arms, letting her unleash her muffled screams into his shoulder as she wept. She fought him at first, her tiny fists pushing and beating against his chest until they weakened and snaked along his waist as she embraced him back.

At times her cries were so loud that his ears rang; her nails dug through the fabric and into his back. But despite the insults his body had taken, he held on as tightly as he could, telling her over and over again that it would be okay, each time sounding more pathetic than the last. He could hear someone screaming how it wasn't fair, and it would be a while before he realized it wasn't coming from any of them.

***

"Jessie, wait!" James cried out from the cockpit of the grounded ship. Jessie stomped away quickly, her arms swinging like pendulums as she tried to put as much distance between her and the scene of the massacre. James begrudgingly left the aircraft, noting that the whine of the engines hadn't even died down. "Jessie. Stop. Where are you going?"

"I don't know and I don't care anymore!" she ground out between gritted teeth.

James grabbed her wrist only to have it wrenched out of his grip. He then wrapped his arms around her body, halting her advance. The way she thrashed against him, screeching at him to let him go, made him feel as though his touch was poisonous. When her pleas did nothing to release her, she let her volcanic temper take the place of desperate pleas. She stabbed her heel at James's feet and slammed her head back in hopes of connecting with his face.

"Jessie, we need to go back." James carefully dodged the blows. He gritted his teeth but did not slacken his grip as one of Jessie's stomps connected with his booted foot.

"Why should I!?"

"Seviper might still be alive. He's hurt but he and Meowth need help. We need to get them to a pokémon center soon."

James's words must have done the trick. Jessie's body suddenly slumped into his hold, forcing him to slowly lower her to the ground. After a few heartbeats, he removed his arms from her and backed away, the lack of moonlight making it difficult to make her out in the darkness.

"Are we cursed?" She struggled with the words.

James mentally froze. Part of him wanted to immediately tell her they weren't, that the very idea of a curse upon them was outlandish. And yet, the longer he thought about their time together in the last four years, he could see why she would think that. Doubt cradled his every potential reply, leaving him silent for far too many seconds.

"Are we not meant to be happy?" The low, dark tone of her voice was starting to scare him now.

"No, Jess," the bluenette replied weakly. "It's just—"

"—then why is it that every time we try to do something, it literally blows up in our faces? We try and catch the twerp's Pikachu for years, failing each and every time. And now when we wanna do something other than failing we still get screwed?" The redhead's voice was a faint and cold whisper. "Just as we're trying to get away from them and climb out of the hole we dug for ourselves, we just get kicked back in!

"It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fair!" Each repeat rose in volume and pitch as it was punctuated by the sound of her fist slamming into the dirt. Eventually, the emotional dam burst and Jessie unleashed a tortured scream, the likes of which James had never heard from her before in all the years of their partnership.

James was about to move in when she stopped and lifted her hand with pained and twitching fingers. Jessie's heavy breaths drowned out the distant drone of Krickitot in the woods. A cloud shifted lazily overhead, letting the light from the moon filter in through the trees. Over the years he had seen Jessie in countless costumes and dozens of hairstyles. She'd been burnt, battered, drenched and rendered nearly bald from some of the attacks she had taken. All of those years of abuse had not prepared him for her current appearance.

Without the consistent and frequent application of her hairspray, the integrity of her coiffure had fallen apart like a house of cards. Long magenta tresses hung over her face, strips of her rosy tinged face peeked through the gaps. Whatever vestige of makeup that had survived their earlier bout was now gone, the last of her mascara staining the tears on her cheeks. But it was the look in her eyes that pierced him like an arrow.

Pitiful.

While there was no malice in the word as it came to him, the fact that it was the first word to pop into his mind pained him. Jessie had been many things to him and while at times the things she said or wanted could be considered pitiful; never had he looked at her and associated that word with the entirety of her being.

He'd spent his own fair share with the homeless in his attempts to stay one step ahead of his parents and Jessebelle. Looking at them reminded him that they had started with less than he had, fallen farther in their failures and been on the streets longer than he had been in a home. The unforgiving trials they had gone through were practically etched into their eyes. And now, those same eyes now stared back at him from Jessie's blue pools.

Could he even blame her? If their last failure had cracked her resolve, then the recent events had now shattered it. Jessie could always pull him out of the deepest of funks; now the one who always knew what to do in the face of defeat was broken.

"I can't expect her to bounce back from this, at least not now. She's always the one pulling my butt out of the fire, so I should be able to do the same for her."

"We're not beaten yet, Jessie. We can still get the ship to the nearest pokémon center and have our pokémon healed," he said. His voice was resolute and firm with confidence. How much of it was real and how much of it was a sham for his fellow operative's sake he hoped was hard to tell.

The look she gave him — as if she didn't believe or trust a single word he had said — was painful. Rather than take it personally, he decided he would just need to convince her with more than just words. He held his hand out to her and gave her a weak smile.

"Leave me alone, James. I want to be alone right now. Just go, I'll be fine," she muttered back.

James shook his head and kept smiling, "Leaving you alone right now is the last thing that you need. You've never truly given up on me, so you can't expect me to do that. Don't make me pick you up."

Jessie gave him a look that practically said, "I'd like to see you try." Her lips gave the tiniest of movements in what James imagined could be the stirrings of a smile. It wasn't much, but he took it as the first spark; now he just needed to fan the flames.

"I'm not asking you to get back on the ship with me, I'll do that. Just stay by the ship and I'll handle the rest."

Jessie stared at his hand for a long while before tentatively reaching up to grab it. James helped her up, keeping his hand wrapped around hers as they walked back. The aircraft quickly came back into view as they neared the clearing; the sight of it invoked a slight tug of resistance on his arm. James stopped and turned, Jessie's eyes were already filled with uncertainty as a chilly breeze blew through them.

Her gaze turned quizzical as James started to remove his gloves, then incredulous when he started lifting his shirt over his head to reveal the black one underneath.

"I know you don't want to go onto the ship, so you can stay here. It looks like it's gonna be kinda chilly so you can use this if you want." James passed her the shirt he had removed.

Jessie stared down at the article of clothing in her hands for a moment before looking back to him.

"I know it's not much, but it might help a bit," James added as he put his gloves back on and made his way back towards the aircraft.

***

James made his way through the slaughter, bending down to pick up Mime Jr.'s unconscious form. He pressed his ear over the tiny mime's chest and rejoiced at the sound of a steady heartbeat. With a flash of light, he was returned back into his pokéball and pocketed.

He suppressed a wave of nausea as he saw the remains of Jessie's Yanmega. He quickly turned away, lest he vomit up what little was in his stomach. Seviper was quickly returned to hopefully heal in the pokeball.

James kneeled down to look over Meowth's body. He frowned; he wasn't sure if getting any closer was safe. While the Scratch Cat pokémon appeared to be in a deep slumber, James had just watched him slash through several seat cushions like the tough fabric was no more resistant than tissue paper. His green eyes lifted up to stare at the dent in the metal wall. Meowth looked fine on the outside but an impact of that magnitude could still leave internal injuries.

He inched his hand over, surprised at the way his own hand trembled as it drew closer. It dawned on him that this might be the first time that he feared for his own life because of Meowth. Some part of him kept imagining Meowth coming to and resuming his feral assault. Even as James felt for a pulse along the cat's wrist the goose bumps refused to leave.

"What happened to all of you?" James whispered, his gaze sweeping across the ship's grisly interior. A good part of him was still processing what he was seeing; the magnitude of what had just happened had yet to fully hit him. He couldn't afford to let it hit him now. Or rather, Jessie couldn't afford for him to be hit by it fully now.

Were he to lose control, he knew he would dissolve into a pathetic mess of tears and cries. It was the complete opposite of what she needed. To the best of his ability, he suppressed thoughts that might bring him over the edge. Like every negative thought he sent it to the back of his mind.

He moved from Meowth over to his decapitated Carnivine, having left him for last. In his opinion, Carnivine had been the least graphic of their party's deaths. A clear, viscous fluid dribbled out of the stalk of his neck and body.

And yet, the longer he stared down at his former pokémon, the stronger the dull ache in his chest grew. James figured he should've felt worse at Carnivine's passing but the fact remained that their time apart had created some distance. He had forgotten that Carnivine had even existed until they reached his family's summer home in the Sinnoh region. For years, Carnivine had lain inside a pokéball, buried under a collection of bottle caps within a chest.

He certainly had fond memories with Carnivine as a child, having caught him in the Great Marsh near Pastoria. Around that time, Jessebelle had been given an Oddish in an attempt to give the two of them something to talk about and hopefully bring them closer together. Wanting nothing in common with her, James had later asked to have a fire-type, which was how Growlie came into his life and why Carnivine was left in Sinnoh.

While Carnivine was one of few bright moments in his boyhood, it was still but a pinprick in the night sky of his time with Jessebelle and his parents. Having no pokémon on hand at the time, Carnivine had joined the team more out of necessity than nostalgia. There was nothing wrong with Carnivine; he was just as loyal and affectionate as Growlie, but if James were honest with himself, he'd rather not have a living reminder of the past.

"Out of sight, out of mind" was one of James's philosophies when it came to his problems.

He had so desperately wanted to bring Growlie with him — not just as a childhood companion but as a member of the team like Mime Jr. — but the Growlithe was a remnant of the old life he so desperately wanted to flee. Just looking at him would be a constant reminder that his parents and Jessebelle were still out there; still hunting him down to bring him back.

"It wasn't your fault. You did nothing wrong," James said into the silence. It was the action of a madman, talking to Carnivine's corpse. But he felt that he needed to say this or it would eat at him till the end of his days.

"You were…are, my best friend. I hope you knew that. I hope you knew I loved you." His view of the world began to shimmer more and more with every word. "I don't think I ever said that to you, and if I did it wasn't nearly enough." It began to dawn on him that he hadn't just lost a pokémon or a comrade. He had lost his childhood friend; he had lost a family member.

James took a shaky breath as he knelt down and pulled off his glove. The surface of Carnivine's head was smooth and cold, though he figured it had never been all that warm before. He tried to replicate the sound of Carnivine's voice in his mind, the way he looked at him when he gave him one of those big toothy grins. As soon as the images came into view, they faded away, leaving behind dim phantoms of the original memory. James let the tears fall freely now, feeling them slide down his cheeks and hang from his chin.

"I just want to say…thanks." James suppressed a sob so he could make it through his eulogy. "For everything you did for me. I wish…I wish I could pay you back, all the pain you've gone through for my sake. Just like before, I'm going to need you to wait for me. I can't promise we'll see each other soon but Growlie and I will meet up with you wherever you are…" James let his tears fall freely as he spoke. "And when you see me, you can nibble on my head again."

***

A gloved fist slammed against the aircraft's communication controls. James moved his hand away, noting the lack of any dent in the material — not that it mattered. Just underneath where his fist had landed was a series of holes from his Carnivine's Bullet Seed, ruining the electronics that would have let the pilot phone in their situation to command.

Their own comlink was less than helpful; a machine answered him due to all the other lines being busy at the moment. It led him in circles, asking him if he was in one kind of situation or another. None of them really seemed applicable and even those that did apply ended up leading him into another session of pointless questions answered by the press of one or two.

James slumped into the — thankfully, clean — copilot seat. Aside from the blood and gore that blanketed half of the flight deck, most of the aircraft appeared intact. The altimeter, artificial horizon and GPS had been left undamaged. If the fuel gauge could be trusted, there was a good chance they could make it to Canalave and even a little further. A glance at the pilot's bloodied seat was a reminder that there were other, more pressing matters.

Mime Jr. and Seviper were no longer a part of that problem, having been returned to their respective pokéballs. Burying Carnivine next came to mind; the question then quickly became where to bury him? He would've liked to have done so by his family's summer home or the Great Marsh. But he wasn't sure if he had the time or fuel to do so.

"Could I bury him here? In some nameless part of the woods? Would I even find this place again? Where would I even bury him in Canalave?" Being always on the move had its downsides; this had been one of the ones that James had preferred not to think about.

His friend aside, what would be done for Jessie's teammates? As much as she complained about the Patient pokémon, she really did care about Wobbuffet. He'd been a part of the team for years and James had gotten used to hearing him chime in at the end of their motto; so much so that doing it without his contribution sounded off. His death would strike Jessie hard…if it already hadn't. Though he wasn't sure he could say the same about Yanmega. Being the newest member of the team, she had only been with them for a short period of time.

Meowth was where things started getting complicated.

Unlike most Team Rocket field agent teams that had a pokémon mascot, Meowth was not their pokémon in the sense of being his trainers. For all intents and purposes, he was another Team Rocket operative, with the attendant rights and responsibilities. He could — and often did — place orders for whatever materiel they needed to pull off their latest scheme. Nearly all the mechas they had requested were customized with controls specifically designed to fit Meowth's physique. In fact, he had even shown some aptitude in engineering as they had previously used several gadgets that were of his own original design.

"Meowth might be safer in a pokéball, but putting him into one would mean I would need to catch him with one." James wasn't sure how he felt about that. It had been years since their initial meeting that the thought had even crossed his mind, if ever so briefly. "How would Meowth feel about that? I could just release him once this is all over. Maybe I'm overthinking it."

James mentally switched the roles of trainer and pokémon. He frowned as he took the thought experiment to its logical — and distasteful — conclusion. To be captured — even if eventually released — meant that he was owned and possessed like an object. The mental experiment had opened his eyes to a whole new perspective. The way he saw their job and how their world functioned was changing before his eyes.

Meowth wasn't the brightest pokémon around but he was definitely smarter than average. Even then, the average pokémon was fairly intelligent by human standards. He had met people that were dumber than pokémon. Conversely, he was almost certain that there were pokémon smarter than he could ever hope to be.

The capacity for them to be just as smart as people was there but for whatever reason they weren't being given that chance. If that was the case, then it wasn't just the fact that they were stealing pokémon from other people that was starting to bother him. It was the fact that the rest of the world was taking intelligent creatures and—

"Team Rocket!"

James felt the blood drain from his face. The cold hand of dread wrapped around his spine and poured ice into his veins. The effect was brief as the dismay gave way to rage. James stormed out of the cockpit and out of the aircraft, his lips fixed into a snarl.

"It…it can't be. No, nonononono! NO! Anyone but them!" James seethed quietly until the three shadowed figures came into view. He didn't even have to peer through the darkness to know who it was.

"Of course it's them. It's always them. How could it be anything but them? Even when we're trying to leave them alone they get in the way." Some part of him found the humor in the situation because the scowl morphed into a smile.

Jessie had long since migrated over to the ship, leaning against it as she waited for James to finish whatever he was doing inside. Now she worried that she had let him take on too much on his own. A laugh started in the back of his throat, working its way past his lips despite his best efforts to hold it in. It was a frustrated and tired laugh at first before it bordered onto something hysterical.

"What did you do!?" one of the figures screamed. He recognized the voice as belonging to the twerp with the Pikachu.

The manic lilt in James's voice dissolved with the accusation. "We haven't done anything to you!" James roared back with a rage that Jessie rarely ever saw from him.

"Liar!" the twerpette screeched at them with equal amounts of loathing.

"Every time something bad happens, you guys are always involved in some way," the oldest twerp added. Despite the neutral and calm voice he spoke with, there was a barely restrained rage and utter contempt for them in his voice.

James, Jessie and Meowth had done practically everything possible to them over the years; they had stolen from them, trapped them, lied to them, even attacked their families, but yet nothing had inspired the hate that radiated from them now.

"If you must know, we were trying to get away from you. We were tired of having our plans foiled; tired of being electrocuted, and most of all we were tired of being blasted off. We were done with you and your Pikachu." James turned his nose up, returning the contemptuous tone.

The Twerp Trio was quiet for a moment, glaring at them until the oldest one finally broke the silence.

"Why should we even trust you or anything you say?"

"We don't care if you trust us. We don't care what you think we did. All we wanted was to never see you and your Pikachu again for as long as we lived. We were on our way out of here when our pokémon started attacking everything. Now three of our pokémon are dead." James's voice began to crack as he said the words; the aura of malice from the twerps was beginning to dissipate.

"Meowth's hurt." There was pain in his voice now. "We want to get him to a pokémon center and make sure he's going to be all right." Jessie watched her partner's voice peter out with the slump of his arms; years of fatigue now showed on his face. Out of the three, James was the one who was the most honest with his feelings. While she wasn't sure why he was telling the twerps so much, it seemed to have the desired effect.

Jessie watched the twerps join together with their backs to them, quick and unintelligible whispers reaching her ears. They argued for a while, throwing them cautious glances every few seconds. James made his way over to her and squatted down to her level.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Jessie nodded and sighed. "Would you believe I almost started doing the motto when the twerps found me?"

James gave a weak smile, noting that she had taken to wearing his shirt over hers. "Old habits are hard to break."

"When you said three pokémon…" Jessie let the question hang in the air over them as James mulled over how to phrase his next words.

"Yanmega and Carnivine…there was no way to save them."

Jessie closed her eyes as she bowed her head. "I'm sorry about Carnivine. I know it must've been hard for…are you okay?"

"I'll be all okay." Jessie noticed his word choice, but didn't press any further.

"Wobbuffet?" she asked.

James exhaled through his nose. "Since none of the seeds hit his brain I figured he'd be okay but I don't know Wobbuffet's anatomy that well and I don't know if any of his vitals were hit. He lost a lot of blood. I could've tried to patch him up to try and stop the bleeding but with the amount he's lost, by the time we reached a pokémon center, I don't know if they would've been able to do anything."

Jessie drew her knees up to her chin and buried her face in the gap between them. Strangled gasps escaped as she tried to keep her composure.

He was about to touch her shoulder with his hand until someone called out his name. The bluenette looked up and found that the squinty-eyed twerp had approached them.

"I have some medical knowledge and supplies that might help some of your pokémon. If you let me take a look at them—"

"—Can you save Wobbuffet?" Jessie quickly interjected, her eyes brimming with tears and hope.

"I'll see what I can do," Brock said softly before following James as they made their way around the ship. Once they had made their way to the other side of the craft, James stopped and faced the breeder.

"Inside is really…" James looked to the ground, struggling to find an appropriate word that could fully encapsulate the carnage inside. When the grass gave him no answers, he sighed. "Bad," he lamely finished. It was an almost comedic understatement but what else could he say?

"James, level with me. Did you know that any of this was going to happen?" Brock asked.

The Rocket member shook his head. "If we had known anything like this was going to happen, we would've done things differently. The pilot who was supposed to take us to Canalave was killed when our pokémon went crazy. We might not be our boss's favorite field agents; but I'd like to think he'd have warned our pilot."

"Okay," Brock replied, the answer seeming to satisfy him for the moment. He was about to go in when James stopped him once more.

"After everything we've done to you, why would you help us?" the field agent asked.

"I'm not so much helping you as I'm helping your pokémon. If I can keep one more pokémon from dying tonight…"

"Did your pokemon...?"

Brock's head dipped ever so slightly. "Pikachu...he lost control and started shocking everything around him. We barely got away but we had to leave our pokémon behind. When we came back, the rest of our pokémon are fine, but Dawn's Ambipom...the lightning must've hit her and...this is the first time Dawn's ever lost a pokémon."

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Brock faced at him for a moment and James could tell that their history and his sincere apology battled in his mind. Eventually the breeder said nothing back and made his way into the aircraft's interior.

Brock's initial reaction to the ship's interior was not unexpected. James watched him run out immediately and retch onto the grass a few meters from the aircraft. He couldn't blame him considering he had nearly done the same; the only difference was that he'd had more time to grow somewhat numb to the sight of it. Brock hadn't been given that luxury; the sight and smell had hit him all at once like blows of an enraged Primeape. Whatever they had gone through hadn't nearly been as gruesome as the two field agents' experience.

It took some time for Brock to come back to the craft and work through his nausea. James tried to help, dragging the bodies of Carnivine and the pilot out of the plane. In the end, James felt his efforts to be worse than useless as the pilot's body left a wet crimson streak wherever it was hauled. Removing Yanmega from the aircraft would have required him to literally scrape her remains off the bulkheads and floor.

Little by little, Brock was able to acclimate himself to the scene and — to James's great surprise and relief — determined that Wobbuffet was still alive. Using a super potion to seal the wounds and stabilize his condition, James was able to return him back into his pokéball to heal. There was no guarantee that Wobbuffet's blue skin would heal unmarred. Or if he'd ever be able to fight again. But James knew that Jessie wouldn't care; she would simply be relieved to know that he would live to see another day.

Several hours passed as he and Brock worked into the night. Despite the hits Meowth and Seviper had taken, Brock assured him that they would be okay. After talking it over with Jessie, they agreed to offer the twerps a ride to Hearthome City where they could all get their pokémon some medical attention.

The twerps were reluctant at first until Jessie reminded them of the times that they had worked together against a common enemy or obstacle. This — and the promise to not try stealing their pokémon — didn't suddenly remove years of accumulated bad blood between them but in the end, they ultimately accepted their offer.

It was then that James's comlink began to beep, indicating an incoming call. They had been talking as it rang faintly in the background. It wasn't until all of them stopped talking that they noticed the noise and looked around to see where it was coming from. Without a word, James ran off with the rest following him. As if by unspoken agreement, they stopped at the open hatch of the tilt-rotor aircraft.

A full minute passed as they waited for him; the slowness of his footsteps as he made his way back to them seemed to be an ill omen. They were about to ask who had contacted him. Instead of saying anything, he gestured for them to be quiet and held out the comlink, its tiny voice deafening in the early morning air.

"This is your leader, Giovanni. I am issuing a nationwide recall of all our members. Effective immediately, all Rocket agents and scientists are to suspend all current projects and return to Kanto. I repeat. This is your leader Giovanni. I am issuing a—"


	3. Fight or Flight

A big thanks to Zarrelion for his part on this chapter. I bounced a lot of ideas off of him as to what to do with this chapter and a good chunk of this is all thanks to his help.

***

August 16

***

There had been plenty of times in the past where a situation had forced him, Jessie, and Meowth to join forces with the twerps. Or at least exist in same room together and not be at each other's throats. James would've called the last few hours an extended awkward silence.

Save for the fact that the wind whistled loudly through the holes in the fuselage and the high pitched whine of the rotor blades from outside.

Thankfully, the rush of wind had forced most of gory air out from the craft. Toilet paper from Giovanni's personal bathroom had been used to wipe and clean off most of the blood and viscera scattered throughout the ship and make it at least temporarily habitable. Due to the damage the craft had taken, they kept their altitude at just under a kilometer.

A few hours had passed without anyone uttering a single word. Jessie sat by herself in the copilot's chair as she monitored the autopilot. James figured his partner needed the time alone to collect her thoughts and regain some of her composure.

There wasn't much privacy for the twerps on their end of the craft. Not that it looked like they needed it. Each of them seemed to be caught up in their own little world. The twerpette lay along the left side of the aircraft atop an inflatable yellow dinghy they had found and inflated as an impromptu bed. She would sniffle and whimper occasionally but beyond that, she was inert. Whether she had gotten any sleep was anyone's guess.

No one had bothered to ask if she had or urge her to try.

The older twerp sat at the center on one of the few chairs that hadn't been eviscerated by claws or riddled with holes. His elbows rested on his knees, fingers intertwined and pressed against his forehead. Meowth and Pikachu rested on the seats next to him. The two pokémon breathed softly as they lay in blissful slumber.

Last was the twerp they had chased for several years. He occupied the right of the ship, staring through a blown-out window. One hand was on his prized cap, lest the wind blow it off his head. His eyes held a somber stare that sparked with hope whenever his gaze flitted over to the chair that held his starter.

James watched the hope in the twerp's eyes die a dozen times over. He knew the twerp wanted to be there the moment his starter awoke. While James considered the boy's efforts childish, he couldn't help but fall into the same cycle himself as he checked on Meowth.

For everyone aboard the tilt-rotor aircraft, there was no choice but to wait until they reached their destination. James had entered the coordinates for Twinleaf town and let the autopilot handle the rest. The system told him he would need to refuel at Sinnoh's coast if they were to make the flight to Kanto safely. If everything went according to plan, they would be able to make the entire trip in half a day. But James's gut instincts, honed by his years as a Team Rocket operative, told him that things never went as smoothly as hoped.

Jessie had often told people to prepare for trouble but there were some things that no amount of preparation or contingency plans could prepare someone for. Their earlier plan had been to drop off the twerps at Hearthome City as thanks for checking on their pokémon and saving Wobbuffet. He and Jessie doubted they could ever have left the twerps on good terms, but this time, they left on, if not entirely good, then at least neutral terms.

Hearthome was only a slight detour from their route towards the Coronet mountain range. Yet the twerps were still with them. As bad as he and Jessie tried to make themselves out to be, there was no way they could've lived with themselves if they had left the twerps at Hearthome in the state it was in.

***

A few hours earlier…

The city had looked fine from a distance, but it wasn't until they flew closer that they found their concerns of where to land the aircraft rapidly became moot. People ran through the city streets with purple waves hot on their heels. Those that couldn't run fast enough drowned beneath the lavender tide. Glass from some of the taller buildings next to them shattered as people smashed windows and leapt out in a desperate attempt to evade the slimy purple hands that scrabbled at the empty air in hopes of seizing a victim.

Jessie and James watched on in horror as bodies rained down from the buildings, spattering the sidewalk with a crimson spray amidst sickening thuds. Towering wisps of steam rose from the bubbling purple puddles scattered across the city. Each mound was another body that had been caught by the purple waves. Screams quickly filled the air and fought for dominance over the drone of their ship's rotor blades.

Brock tore his gaze from the window only to notice too late that Dawn had been watching the same thing. He grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to pull her away from the windows. She resisted at first until her strength gave away completely and she stumbled into Brock's hold. The trainer was deathly pale at first, but then a slight greenish tinge took over her face. Brock watched her cheeks swell before she clamped a hand over her mouth bolted for the bathroom at the back of the plane.

He followed her and found her doubled over the toilet, gripping the rim of the bowl like it was her only anchor to stability. He pulled her hair back and braced himself for the smell as she retched violently into the bowl. James was suddenly grateful they'd been given one of Giovanni's personal escort ships. Had it been built for anyone lower than admin level, a bathroom or the autopilot would not have been installed.

Jessie suppressed a wave of nausea that rose up her throat, something she imagined everyone else had been doing at the sound of Dawn's heaves. Ash remained rooted to his spot by the window. One hand was clutched into a shaking fist while another hand aimed his pokédex at the scene below.

"Muk, the Sludge pokémon. A single drop from their body can contaminate an entire pool. Toxins seeping from their bodies can instantly kill plants and trees," Dexter recited neutrally.

"It…It can't be," Ash mumbled as he backed away from the window.

"Uh, James," Jessie said, shaking his arm and pointing out the window ahead of them. The bluenette turned his head and found what his partner was staring at. Atop the building ahead of them was one of the aforementioned Muk, opening its slimy maw until it rivaled the size of a Golbat's own cavernous mouth. A nauseating gargling sound emanated from the back of its throat for a few seconds before an enormous blob of sludge was vomited at them.

Jessie's instincts kicked in before her partner's did. She grabbed the controls to the aircraft. The Sludge Bomb missed them by a few inches as the aircraft swerved out of the way at the last second. James's hand met Jessie's own as he took the controls and shifted them forward, narrowly missing a nearby building they would've smashed into if they had kept moving in the same direction.

"James, we need to get out of here now!" Jessie shouted.

"No need to tell me twice," James replied stiffly as he opened the throttle on the engines to full and made for the fastest route out of the city.

In less than a minute the outer fringes of the forest came back into view and the city slipped into the horizon behind them. James throttled back the engines, hoping the desperate sprint hadn't cost them too much fuel.

"Wait!" Ash's voice rang through the cockpit. Standing in the doorway was the young trainer, his face set in a resolute mask. "Where are you going? We need to go back."

The look Jessie gave him was fierce enough to melt the hide off a Steelix.

"Are you blind, twerp!? Didn't you see what was happening back there!? How do you expect us to stay there!?" Jessie barked. Whatever vestige of patience she had left for the boy disintegrated at his petulant cry.

"They need our help." Ash's stance was defiant beneath her fiery scrutiny.

"And how were you planning to help those people? Were you going to fight those Muk with your pokémon? Oh, wait. Your pokémon are out cold! Just like ours. How would we be any different from the people back there!?"

"We could've found a way to help them," Ash insisted. Despite his resolute tone, Jessie could tell that her logic hammered away at his resolve like the surf against the dunes. Soon, the young trainer was grasping at straws. "We could've brought them onto the ship. We could've—" Ash rambled on, glancing at different spots on the floor as if they held more suggestions.

"We can't fit that entire city on this ship." Jessie's voice lost its razor-edged fury but still kept that cold, keen edge of reality. "Even going down puts us and our ship in danger of getting attacked and grounded. Then we'd be stuck in that city like all of those people. We'd be dead; the people we tried to save would've still died. In the end, no one gets saved."

"That's…" Ash gritted his teeth, doing his best to keep himself from deflating.

"She's right, Ash." Another — familiar, male voice — joined Jessie in dissuading Ash from his foolish rescue plan.

The raven-haired trainer whirled around to find Brock standing behind him.

"Wha…Brock, she…" Ash trailed off.

"Ash, much as I never thought I'd say this, Team Rocket is right. In our state, we can't help anyone. We need to let someone like Officer Jenny, the police or heck even the army handle something this bad. I know you want to help but this is way out of our leagues. All we can do is let the right people know what's happening and where so they can deal with it."

"I want to go home." Dawn spoke up from behind them, catching everyone off guard.

Ash and Brock turned to face her, surprised that she could look any more haggard than she already had before.

"I want to go home." She uttered each word carefully with a sense of finality as she looked into their eyes.

Brock turned around and faced Jessie. "Do you think you could drop us off there instead?" Jessie eyed each of them for a few seconds until James's voice sounded from the cockpit.

"It's on the way to Canalave so it's okay."

"…You heard him," Jessie said as she reentered the cockpit and manually slid the door shut behind her.

"Thank you," Dawn whispered back softly as she collapsed into one of the few intact chairs. Brock rummaged through his backpack for a bottle of water and handed it to her, telling her she needed to replenish her fluids. Dawn took it after he uncapped it for her. She winced with each swallow.

"It tastes weird," she muttered as she handed the bottle back with half its contents remaining. Brock checked the bottle for a few seconds before he handed it back.

"The water's normal, it's just the taste in your mouth that makes it weird. Let me see if I can find some ju—"

"—its fine, Brock. I'm just…tired," Dawn replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You guys didn't get much sleep last night so I'm not surprised. Let me see if I can throw something together for you."

"What about you?"

Brock raised an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

"Aren't you tired?"

Brock tried chuckling without trying to make it sound too forced. "When you have as many siblings as I do, you learn to power through some nights. I'll catch up on my sleep later; I've had some practice at it. You haven't."

Dawn said nothing in response and kept her gaze fixed to the floor at her feet. Brock was about to ask Ash for some help until he saw the look on his face. Years of traveling with him had taught him to recognize when Ash was beating himself up on the inside. He wanted to tell him that what was happening to those people wasn't his fault.

But in his state, he might as well be deaf.

Ash was a boy of action and the fact that he could do nothing for those people was eating at him. Brock could try and reason it out with him, but if the logic came from an outside source some part of Ash would reject it. Ash would need to come to the same conclusion on his own. It would be hard for him as it went entirely against who he was as a person. Town after town, day after day, Ash would always stop to help anyone he came across that was in need. He would do his best to fix their problems, usually asking nothing in return.

Ash's optimism and selfless nature were just some of the things that Brock admired about him. Admittedly, Brock had expected the years to weather away the boy's good nature, darken his outlook on the world. In general, Brock expected Ash to suffer the same fate that befell his own father and so many others. Yet somehow Ash managed to surprise him by never letting the rougher patches of his journey bring him down. His resolve to help people had yet to waver. But now the downsides of being so virtuous had appeared.

Brock could only hope that it didn't become a curse.

***

Present

The world beyond the window seemed pristine and calm despite the horrors they had witnessed earlier. It made James wonder what other nightmares were in store for them.

"Hey?" Jessie's voice was faint in the rush of the wind through the glass, but loud enough to pierce through his train of thought and grab his attention.

James turned to face her, the goggles and oxygen mask on his face giving him a rather Beedrill-esque appearance. Even though the air was perfectly breathable, the goggles and mask kept the fierce wind from ramming into his eyes and down his throat. At some point while he'd been flying the ship, Jessie had tied her hair back into a ponytail.

"How are you holding up?" She had to shout to make herself heard over the roaring wind.

"I'm holding up, but…that city." James's voice, staticky and slightly distorted, came through the mask's mic.

"I know," she quickly added, as if not mentioning the event made it less real.

"It's just. What we just saw…"

"It's crazy."

"Jess, are we…absolutely sure Team Rocket doesn't have anything to do with this?" James asked.

It wasn't an entirely dumb statement considering how long they had been part of the organization. The duo was rather low on the Team Rocket hierarchy and there were a lot of things within the organization that were need-to-know basis. And they were often lumped with those who didn't need to know. James understood the practicality of the entire protocol as it meant that a captured operative could only reveal so much, even under duress. But it still irked him to be left so in the dark that they might as well have been blind.

There were plenty of times where no one had given them a heads-up as to the activities of other field agents in the area. A simple briefing would have allowed them to stay out of the way and not interfere with the results or even assist with the scheme. No one had given them a heads-up about Dr. Namba's Rage Crowns in the Orange Islands. No one had told them that Butch and Cassidy were planning on using a Drowzee to mind control all nearby pokémon to do their bidding. Had they known they would've steered clear of the area and avoided having Meowth succumb to the mind control.

"This isn't the boss's style," Jessie finally answered, breaking the silence. "He's always stressing about how we have to keep a low profile whenever we're working in the field or on a project. That way we can move under the radar. Having an entire city and its people offed would bring too much attention to the organization."

"What about the Lake of Rage?"

"That's one incident."

"That we know of!" James snapped back. "Team Rocket is all over Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and who knows where else! There could be tons of things like this going on and we'd never know about it!" James struggled to keep his voice just under a yell and not alert the twerps.

"James, we can argue about maybes and what-ifs for hours, but we aren't going to get us any closer to the truth until we get back to the base."

"Jess, just humor me then. What would you do if Team Rocket was actually responsible for what we just saw?"

Jessie was quiet for a long moment, staring out at the landscape that rolled beneath them. "I don't know, James. I don't know what I'd do. I want to think that my mom didn't join an organization that would do something like this. We steal pokémon, sure, but not something like this. Just…let me think about it, 'kay?"

James said nothing, turning to face the same terrain his partner stared at and seeing the crest of Mount Coronet peek out from the edge of the horizon.

***

Brock jolted back into consciousness and felt immediately estranged by his surroundings, or at least he did until the memories started rushing back into his mind. Each image that flitted through his mind weighed more and more on him until they crushed whatever vestige of relief his rest had brought him.

"I really watched people die…I actually watched pokémon kill people," he muttered.

What he had seen was real, no matter how much he wished it wasn't. The proof was all around him. It was in the tufts of fluff that bled out of the seat cushions. In the dents in the steel. And most tellingly, in the pink stains on the floor.

The wind screaming through the holes in the walls was another sharp reminder of what he had just seen. The ignorance of the world's events that came with his dreamless sleep had now made him wonder why he even bothered to wake up in the first place.

"You know why. They need you." The parenting part of his mind was quick to remind him.

Brock looked about the room, wondering how long he'd been out. From the looks of it, Dawn was still resting on her side and curled into a ball atop the inflatable dinghy. Brock couldn't blame her for wanting to go home.

Though he hoped Ambipom's death and the gruesome scenes of the Muk attack wouldn't leave lasting scars, he knew that was unlikely. The coordinator simply lay still atop her impromptu bed. Whether she was actually asleep, feigning sleep or even alive was hard to tell in her state. Only the gentle rise and fall of her chest from her even breathing hinted that she was alive.

"When I woke up…everything that we saw…when she wakes up…every second I can keep her from going through what I just did is another second she doesn't have to suffer," Brock muttered as he watched the sleeping girl.

Ash had left his spot by the window and now sat on the floor between the rows of seats so that his gaze would be level with the seat that held Pikachu. His forehead rested on the edge of the seat, tiny snores brushed over his hat which now lay atop his lap.

"I guess we must have all been really tired if we were able to sleep in these conditions," Brock thought as he carefully lifted himself off the chair. He moved quietly through the ship and eventually found himself standing before the door to the cockpit. Brock eyed the holes in the metal; James had told him that they had been made by Carnivine's Bullet Seed.

"If even the weak moves are like this…" Brock shook his head and debated whether or not to open the door himself or knock. After a few seconds he settled for the former and slid the door open a crack. A blast of air immediately rushed through the gap. He widened the opening more, just enough to slip in and closed the door behind him. It didn't take long for Brock to learn that their half of the ship was actually quieter than James and Jessie's half.

Jessie had pulled her legs in beneath her and was asleep in the cramped hallway, using an inflated life vest as an ad hoc pillow. James's face was hidden behind a pair of goggles and an oxygen mask but he was still sitting upright. A simple tap to his shoulder made him flinch until he turned and faced Brock. Brock stepped back to let James get up, noticing the pink hue on the back of his white pants from where he'd sat.

"Everything okay?" James asked as he removed the oxygen mask and goggles from his face.

"In a way. I managed to doze off and I wanted to know how long I'd been out," Brock replied.

"Well, we just passed Mount Coronet if that says anything."

"How'd you manage that? I thought we had to stay below one kilometer."

"I took control of the ship and was able to find a gap between the mountains. Believe it or not, the path I took is actually the same place where we tried to take that Probopass from one of the twerps you were with."

Alan and his Probopass immediately came to Brock's mind, evoking a small smile.

"Funny how some things work out," the breeder thought to himself and felt himself smile, only to have it disappear when he wondered where the boy was now and whether he was dealing with the same things that they were.

"How long until we get to Twinleaf?" Brock asked, watching James sit back into the pilot's seat, and look at the screens around him as he began to put his oxygen mask on.

"Not too much longer," he replied. "GPS says we're coming up on Oreburgh in a min—" the end to his statement never came as his eyes widened and he slammed his hands onto the controls, sending the aircraft swerving to the right. The sudden change in direction flung Brock into Jessie who had already started to awaken. Jessie was about to scream at her partner until a golden column of energy eclipsed their view of the earth and sky to the left of the ship.

The Hyper Beam dissipated into motes of light only for another one to take its place as James sent the ship into a dive. Brock's heart was in his throat, threatening to explode as his hands frantically scrabbled for something stable to hold onto until he eventually settled for the edge of the chair. Unfortunately, that meant the only other available handhold was his back, which Jessie clung onto for dear life. James muttered profanities as he tried to pilot the craft with one hand and don his goggles and oxygen mask with the other. A screeching roar filled the air. One that each of them recognized on some primal level.

"You've got to be kidding me!" was James's staticky yell behind his oxygen mask. The dread of what they were facing stole the warmth from their blood and chilled them right to the bone.

"Of all the pokémon we had to come across," Jessie growled. She made her way towards the door and wrenched it open. Ash was holding Pikachu in one arm while another gripped the arm of a seat for dear life. Dawn was next to him and doing the same, holding Meowth in her free arm.

"What's going on!?" Dawn screamed. Her eyes widened when the world beyond the windows disappeared beneath a river of golden energy.

"It's an Aerodactyl," Ash shakily replied without an ounce of doubt in his voice, his close encounters with that particular pokémon had made it impossible to forget the sound of its cry.

"Hold on!" Brock yelled from the cockpit's doorway before ducking back inside. Jessie was almost afraid of asking why they would need to when she felt the g-forces pulling at her body as the ship began to accelerate. The fuselage rattled and groaned; the combined noise of the thrusters and the rotor blades reached an earsplitting pitch, drowning out Dawn and Jessie's screams.

Brock appeared once more in the doorway, his expression dark before he spoke again.

"Brace yourselves, we're going down."


	4. Knock Back to the Stone Age

As always Zarrelion has been instrumental in this chapter.

***

1:24 PM

He's halfway up the steps when the noise reaches his ears. His body seizes up as he tries to hold as still as possible and hone in on the sound that now competes with the thunderous beat of his own heart.

The drone grows louder, enough for him to recognize it and feel his heart defy all logic when it beats even louder in his chest. By the sheer volume, he figures it's close…closer than anything of its kind has any business being near buildings. What was once a faintly audible buzz now becomes a bone-jarring hum that resonates through the building.

One heartbeat passes, then a second. It's on the third when the sound starts emanating from the opposite side of the room. Roark makes the last few steps up the stairway and cautiously edges towards the window. His will is then suddenly tested when the all too familiar screech of an Aerodactyl fills the air. Nerve endings flare as every brain cell in his head screams at him to run.

But his exhaustion and curiosity ultimately win when he doesn't immediately retreat from the window.

Columns of orange energy bisect the sky above Oreburgh, each one making him wince. They're bigger than he remembers them being. Blasts now long enough to devastate a city block and wide enough to obliterate any of Oreburgh's buildings. At first Roark can't help but feel they're being fired randomly. That is until he notices that there's a purpose to this grand display of power.

Every burst seems to just barely miss the aircraft he heard earlier; the pause between each blast giving the pilot just enough time to guess the trajectory of the next attack and barely dodge it. He doesn't recognize the unusual jet-helicopter hybrid. Roark attributes his inability to identify the craft to his lack of interest in aviation. The hundreds of meters between them might also be a factor.

"Maybe the national guard is still..." Roark considers for a moment as the aircraft makes a wide turn, coasting along the city's outskirts.

"They should've sent more than just one plane," the miner thinks bitterly, knowing it's only a matter of time before the Aerodactyl either outwits its target, pilot miscalculation or simple sluggishness on the pilot's end finishes their aerial dance. He looks on with the same morbid fascination of watching a tunnel collapse.

A few seconds pass without the appearance of another orange beam, leaving Roark to wonder if the Aerodactyl decided to pursue easier prey. His question is quickly answered when a ring of white light forms around the prehistoric pokémon's body, a move that Roark is all too familiar with — Stone Edge.

Orbs of light coalesce along the ring, forming into shards of stone that orbit the creature as it flies. The pilot — expecting a searing column of orange light — jukes sharply…only to steer the craft right into the hail of lithic flechettes.

It's then that something black and yellow bursts from the side of the aircraft, almost confirming Roark's dismal expectations, at least until a lightning bolt arcs out and strikes the Aerodactyl. The flying fossil's body arches back, whatever screams it would've released into the air are locked in its throat by the electrical blast. Roark blinks, and then it's over. The moment his lids lift back up the Aerodactyl is already plummeting towards the ground, its blackened body trailing smoke.

There's no sound to mark the landing as the corpse disappears behind the row of houses. Neither the ground, nor the walls give the slightest tremble from the impact or give any hint that the body has crunched against the asphalt. The world continues to spin; the events on its surface are but meaningless trivia in the face of its endless turns. A part of Roark can't register what's happened quite yet.

His eyes shift up to the sky, still expecting the flying fossil to still be there, but only blue and open skies greet him. The aircraft flies back into view, shadowed by the black and yellow figure that unleashed the lightning bolt. He watches them disappear beyond the window, but not before seeing the craft draw closer and closer to the ground to the east of him.

A chorus of hisses and snarls reach Roark's ears from the streets below. He ducks back beneath the window and presses himself against the wall, hoping he's small and insignificant enough to escape the universe's notice. He's a bundle of nerves and involuntary shivers, sliding slowly down the wall until he reaches the tiled floor. The sweat that soaks his black undershirt has cooled, clinging to his back and adding another bout of shivers up his already trembling body. The growls grow fainter until he's left in the company of silence once more.

With all the tenderness of a raging semi-truck the exhaustion hits him all at once. It isn't until he's on the ground that it begins to dawn on him that it's the first time in twelve hours he's been allowed to sit down and rest.

He gingerly lifts the miner's helmet off his head and places it on his lap, his twitching finger tracing the thin crack snaking across the glass surface of the mounted light. With a shaky hand, his fingers slip through his wet hair, stopping to rest at the back of his head.

It's as if a switch is located there because the images of the slaughter flit in and out of his vision; the taste of bile and the onset of nausea quickly follow suit.

Even as he closes his eyes, the events keep playing out in his mind, forcing him to watch a panicked public be disemboweled with every swing.

Trails of blood arc through the air while men and women in lab coats are doubled over. They desperately press their entrails back into their open wounds with their bare hands, as if they think the simple act of putting them back would somehow undo the damage that's been done.

He had watched it all happen, watched it all. And did nothing but run so he didn't suffer the same fate.

Sure, he could justify his actions. Reason out every decision he'd made in the last twelve hours from every word he's spoken to every step he's taken.

Yet there's something that dwells in the darkest corners of his mind and reminds him of what he hates and fears most.

"You left them. You left everyone behind. How are you any different than Dad?"

11:14 AM

"Are there any more!?" Roark remembers asking the handful of soldiers that deployed at his call about the emergency.

The soldiers gave him a sour expression before looking away, rifles still trained on the darkness ahead of them.

"They're all that could be spared," Roark whispers and shakes his head at the sight.

Shattered fragments of a riot shield crunch beneath his boots. Each step makes Roark feel as though he's sending off a signal flare to anything with ears in the area. A quick scan of the street shows him to be the only living thing still standing, but the fact does little to comfort him.

The ground is littered with metal ribbons and corpses alike. The husk of a tank stands among the dented and derelict cars. Its main gun lies beside the severed tank treads, splayed out from the rest of the eviscerated body. There's too many gashes in the hull to count. If only because it's hard to tell where one slash starts and another one ends. The heady, choking odor of fuel emanates from the liquid pooling around the destroyed vehicle.

A rifle lies at Roark's feet just before the start of a crimson carpet that trails off the main road and into one of the alleyways behind him. Wet snaps and crunches are absent from the air, giving Roark some solace in that whatever took the soldier has probably already finished its meal and gone.

The miner crouches down and stares at the gun before him. A silent debate begins in his mind, debating on whether or not it would be a good idea to bring the weapon it with him. The extra weight will slow him down and the noise it'll make if he fires it might as well be the sound of dinner bells for the entire city. The only guns he's seen were on the movie screen. Now did not seem like a good time to start riflery practice.

His eyes inch back to the crimson streak on the concrete.

"What good did it do them?" he whispers to himself, pushing off his knees and stepping over the rifle.

4:59 AM

He can't look away. Except that's not entirely true. He can. There's absolutely nothing around on the roof forcing him to stop watching. He wants to. But he doesn't think he has that right anymore. He can see the full length of the street leading out of Oreburgh, streetlights illuminating a macabre traffic jam of empty vehicles. The walls shift from red to blue and back again, moving to the beat of the ambulance's siren.

The people — citizens of his city — dart through the cars and down the same paths as those before them. His eyes move back to the corner of the building where concrete has crumbled away around the bony spike embedded in the roof. The memory of his last attempt is still fresh in his mind and while he wants to warn them, to scream out and tell them what's waiting for them further down the road, every time he tries to his throat seizes up and the noise dies on his lips. He can only watch silently as the people are herded through the streets.

Those too slow are cut down by Kabutops. Those able to outrun the silver cloud of blades make it down the street only to be ripped apart by ivory spikes. Once no one is left standing, the Omastar follow the Kabutops and dart back into the shadows around the buildings, waiting for another group to come into their midst.

3:24 AM

He knows they've failed.

He can see it in her eyes as he's sure that she can see it in his. It's almost admirable how she keeps trying. Like him, she has a responsibility to protect the city and to uphold the law. Yet, unlike him, her family's legacy is built upon generations upon generations of service to the people.

His predecessor abandoned the town after only a few years.

Whatever weight being an Officer Jenny once carried now seems insignificant when the screams begin to join the blaring sirens from the crashed ambulances. Her eyes dart back and forth, leaving her sentences orphaned as her attention switched between angry civilians.

Over the din of angry and frightened cries he knows her words are wasted on them. Not because they're hollow promises, but because he's next to her and the sound of her voice no longer reaches his ears. Her hands are outstretched to the crowd as if her palms and fingers are all she needs to hold the seething wall of panic and madness at bay. Roark takes a step back, marveling at how such a simple action can create such a dent in their wall of authority. Jenny immediately notes his distancing of her and in a momentary lapse of judgment turns to face him with a look of disbelief and betrayal.

Before she can register the guilt in his eyes, a fist slams into her face. Her hat joins her on the ground, both crumpling beneath the dozens of stomping feet that equate distance to safety. What they'll find at the end of the path is what he and Officer Jenny didn't want them to know about yet. What the city council didn't want them to know about until it was finished. At the end of their journey they'll find a half-built and unfinished facility with no way of protecting them from the crisis going on because it was only started several months ago.

1:02 AM

The smell hits him once he's a few blocks away from the museum. What was once thought to be dark clouds over a night sky turns out to be plumes of smoke as he feels the light and warmth reach his eyes. His run falters into a stumble that leaves him on his knees. Whatever hopes he had of reaching a phone in the pokémon center have burnt up in the inferno that erupts out of every window.

"Wh-wha..."

Roark turns and finds that he is not alone in his grief. Several people slowly approach the pyre behind him, battered and inert figures hanging in their arms. They all look at him, each of them holding the same look in their eyes. Their eyes shimmer as fear intermingles with hope and while their lips never move he can hear their whispers close in on him, asking him why this is happening and what should they do?

He has no answer for them, nothing to mollify what they've just witnessed. No placating words come to him as he moves back to his feet and turns his back on the flames. He clears his throat with a cough.

"Does anyone have a phone?"

12:39 AM

The property damage the Aerodactyl caused a few months back had cost the mining museum an exorbitant amount of their funding and set them back several months of progress. Since that incident, the containment dome that housed the prehistoric pokémon had been reinforced to prevent a repeat disaster. His Rampardos had even helped test its durability, attacking it for hours with seemingly no effect.

It's as this memory pops into his head that Roark comes across the shattered fragments of that very same containment dome, littering the path to the museum entrance. His brain refuses to connect the two at first. But the undeniable fact remains that shards of reinforced material belong to the massive gaping hole near the top of the dome. Roark practically tears the doors off their hinges as he bursts through the entrance and soars up the stairs. The fluorescent lights of the facility are still on. Rows of doors flanked the empty corridors that break off into different wings of the facility.

The secretary at the reception desk is long gone. Though he's not surprised considering how late it is. The scanner at each door reads his keycard and with a whirring click it opens the door for him. Access has never been an issue for Roark, especially considering that his efforts at the mines are the reason the museum had enough specimens to make a biodome.

He navigates through a series of halls; the sounds of his footfalls feel as though they were rebounding off the walls and straight back into his ears. He's never been allowed to sprint through the facility. With the amount of noise he was making, he starts to see why that rule was in effect. As he scans the deserted hallway, he starts to notice a sound that creeps amidst his thundering footsteps. Every door he opens reveals another part of the background noise. It isn't until he opens the last door and stops to listen to the sound that he realizes what it is…and immediately wishes he hadn't.

Nothing but the sound of his own beating heart is left to dampen the screams from the scientists of the facility.

One voice in the choir of screams is suddenly cut short and replaced with a gurgle and the sound of something spattering against a wall. A pool of crimson inches along the floor down the hallway a few meters ahead of him. Roark backs away slowly, his hand like a vice around the doorknob as he eases the door closed. He holds his breath, praying that the whir and click of the door locking doesn't give him away.

The key card shakes in his hand, so much so that the scanner can't read it and prompts him to try again. On his third attempt, the scanner finally reads, if only because his free hand was fastened so tightly around his wrist that his hand began to pale from lack of blood.

He's halfway through the hallway door when a metallic screech from behind makes him stumble. Roark risks a quick glance to find what looks like a shard of bone protruding from the metal of the door to the laboratory-turned-slaughterhouse. The bony blade jerks forward, deepening the wound and gaining a few centimeters of purchase before slowly sliding back. By the time the scythe retreats the door closes quietly behind him.

Roark tries to keep his breathing level, tries to keep himself from breaking into a mad dash for freedom. A thin sheen of sweat catches the light with every swing of his arms. The neurons in his body fire with a singular purpose; every thought that enters his mind is now fixated on getting out of the building. The health of his pokémon. The lives of the scientists. His love of all things fossil related. All of it lies banished into the distant horizon of his mindscape.

It's not until he makes it past the outer doors of the facility that he allows himself to let out a gasp and starts desperately gulping down air. His legs have a mind of their own, pumping up and down to put as much distance between him and the facility. Every part of him was still on high alert; every instinct screaming at him to keep moving and put as much distance between him and the facility as possible. Without his pokémon he's hopelessly outmatched and ill-equipped to handle this deadly threat. As much as it pains him to resort to lethal force against the former fossils, he can't see any other solution to keep the people of his city safe.

The Sinnohvian National Guard had brought forth tanks and a riot squad within the first few hours of the Aerodactyl incident. The scientists had urged them to let them try and calm the Aerodactyl or at least render it unconscious before the national guardsmen resorted to killing it.

Roark could sympathize with the creature; waking up in an alien world where the sights and smells and sounds all foreign. He could imagine it being scared and confused, lashing out at anything it might consider a threat. While there had been extensive property damage to the city, no one had died or been critically wounded.

Grim realization strikes him. "That's not the case this time," he mutters. "People have died. No amount of mercy pleas on my part will save those pokémon now."

A deep metallic groan from behind him shatters whatever consistency his thoughts once had. Roark turns around on instinct, frightened of what he'll see at the facility's automated entrance. He finds no comfort at the sight of nothing actually being behind him and his dread only grows once more when another sonorous clang tells him where the sound is coming from.

The illusion of silence manages to hold for a few precious seconds before the steel at the base of the containment dome gives a long and wailing whine. The wall begins to bulge and Roark knows it won't be much longer before whatever is behind the dome bursts through. He needs a phone and he needs one fast.

12:04 AM

His party has finally fallen unconscious but not before leveling the house. Roark stands a few meters away from the scene, watching the last of his team collapsing to the ground. An eerie silence is all that's left standing, broken only by the sound of his own labored breaths. Muffled beneath the layers of rubble he hears the shrill cry of his cellphone.

He digs through the wreckage, years of mining experience taking hold and telling him where he needs to slip his fingers in for maximum leverage. Even without his gear, it's close enough to his line of work that he loses himself in the flow of the actions. The night's events fade into the background and he revels in the mindlessness of his task, forgetting that he's digging through the remains of his home.

It's on the fifth and final ring that he finds his phone and pulls it out of the debris. The touchscreen is cracked, sections of it blacked out like a digital cancer, but for all intents and purposes, it's still functioning. His phone promptly tells him that he's missed a call. He stares at the first few numbers, eventually recognizing them as those of the Oreburgh Mining Museum.

Before he can stop himself, his body is already going through the motions, pressing the call button and swinging the phone up to his ear. Surprising him more than his own muscle memory is the phone being functional enough to dial the number and connect him to the other side.

The moment the call goes through, a panicked voice on the other side screams at him to come and help them handle the prehistoric pokémon. Before he can even get a word in, the line abruptly goes dead, leaving Roark to wonder whether they even knew who they were talking to.

He moves about the wreckage with purpose, finding and changing into his mining uniform before pocketing the phone. With every member of his party that he checks on, the less he's sure as to what made them go berserk. When there's nothing physically wrong on the surface of their bodies, he figures it must be something going on inside. Stranger still is that whatever afflicted his team was ignoring their vast physiological and anatomical differences.

There's a part of him that can't help but feel like he's gotten off lucky. His home could be rebuilt. His precious fossils can be excavated a second time. Those that hadn't survived the collapse could just as easily be replaced with a few visits to the mines. The same could not be said for his pokémon as he returned them back to their pokéballs, silently grateful that they aren't too hurt.

The timing couldn't have been worse, but Roark knows he's obligated to visit the museum and see what he can do to help the scientists. He's the town's gym leader. And despite his age, there are things still expected of him.

10:23 PM

Roark sets his pokéballs on his dresser by his door and ambles over to his bed. He kicks off his boots before collapsing onto his mattress. After a long day at the mines, he lets the fatigue settle into his bones and whisk him into slumber as he welcomes what he expects to be another peaceful night's rest.


	5. The Boys Who Lived

As always, my thanks to Zarrelion for touching up this chapter.

***

James slowly eased himself away from the controls once the aircraft was finally landed. Sand and loose earth flew from their landing site and eventually settled as the whine of the engine started to die down. He let himself sink into his seat for a moment before moved back onto the controls.

Despite the lack of imminent threats, James couldn't quite trust the peace they were experiencing. Adrenaline still coursed through his veins as he tried to rein in his panicked breathing. Pain shot through his fingers every time he flexed his still stiff hands.

He couldn't actually believe their luck. One second the Aerodactyl was hounding them through the skies. The next moment, in a literal flash, it was gone. He had kept the aircraft in the air for a few minutes, refusing to let his guard down. Until Jessie briefly popped into the cockpit and told — no, ordered — him to land.

"That reminds me," the bluenette said the moment he tore the goggles and oxygen mask from his face.

"Jessie!" he yelled back between pants. "Is everyone okay?"

While brief, every second of unanswered silence made it impossible for his imagination to not jump to the worst possible conclusion. The Aerodactyl's last attack could've punched through the bulkhead and hit one of the twerps. It was one thing to drag the pilot's corpse from the aircraft.

It was another thing entirely to haul out and leave behind the body of someone he'd seen for years. While it was true that he and Jessie thwarted their plans and tried to steal their pokémon, they had no desire to see the twerps killed or crippled.

"We're okay, James," his partner in crime finally called back, letting him release a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Jessie entered the cockpit soon after, sliding back the broken door behind her as she did so.

"Did you see what happened to the Aerodactyl?" James asked as he undid the seatbelts and turned to face her. Jessie plopped down on the copilot seat, her gaze trained on her lap, brow furrowed as she worked on how she was going tell him what happened.

"What happened? You said they were okay? Did someone get—"

Jessie shot him a look that both silenced him and told him to patient. James held his tongue and waited another minute before she began.

"The twerp's Pikachu...just…woke up and jumped out the window, then one of his other pokéballs opened and his Staravia followed. A few seconds later we saw a flash and then we didn't hear the Aerodactyl anymore, but I think you and I both know what happened," she said.

James stared at her and processed the words for a few seconds, finding that the answers he sought were not in her eyes. "You don't think the twerp's Pikachu actually…"

Jessie arched an eyebrow at him, challenging him to come up with any other plausible explanation. "Well I sure as hell don't think it was blasting off again!" she snapped.

"Right…" James replied, looking down at the rosy stains on the steel beneath his boots.

Jessie lifted her sights to the controls above her seat, almost as if she were staring right through the metal and circuitry. The look in her eyes told him she couldn't fully believe the words coming out of her mouth. Neither of them had to say it, but both of them knew what the Twerp's Pikachu had done.

Their metaphor of the twerp's Pikachu being a lethal weapon had become terrifyingly literal. Pikachu was no longer just a prized and uniquely powerful Pokémon but a weapon on par with a bomb.

"Guess now was a good time to stop trying to pilfer the twerp's Pikachu, eh Jess?" James said with a forced chuckle.

Jessie's only response was to slump into the copilot seat and deflate.

"Wait, Jess. If the twerp's pokémon are awake, then maybe Meowth—"

"And the others!" Jessie finished, moving out of the cockpit and into the other half of the ship.

Ash had migrated back to the right side of the ship. His gaze locked on the world beyond the window. The twerpette was pulling the inflatable dinghy back to its original place from the other end of the room where it had flown about from the aircraft's evasive maneuvers.

Brock needed only to glance at the rocket members to know what they wanted. Without a word he moved away to check on Dawn, but not before gently placing Meowth on one of the few undamaged seats. James felt Jessie's hand curl around his as they drew closer to their teammate. James gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

In contrast to the state of their surroundings, Meowth looked completely peaceful as if he were asleep.

James reached out with his finger and poked the cat's cheek. The effort provoked a few unintelligible mumbles and a halfhearted swipe of his paw. James had jerked his hand away on reflex, but noted that Meowth's claws had not extended from his paw.

When James did not move Jessie then tried her hand at waking their teammate.

Every snore Jessie poked out of Meowth wore away at her patience until several minutes of gentle poking and prodding gave way to her more direct approach.

She lifted the cat off the seat from his shoulders and shook him back and forth as she spewed expletives and threats that managed to tear Ash's attention from the window. Brock looked like he was about to say something but kept silent, knowing it wasn't his place to tell them how to handle their own teammate. Dawn looked at the scene in horror and cast her glance back at the floor.

Jessie's methods eventually came through when the interior of the ship became filled with Meowth's frantic screams.

"What's damatta wit ya, can'ta pokémon get some shuteye!" Meowth shouted as he readied a claw to scratch Jessie's face.

The claw, however, never reached its destination. In the instant that Meowth saw her expression his paw froze in midswipe. The cat found himself crushed into her embrace and quickly felt another weight on his back when James joined in on the hug.

Air deprived as he was, Meowth quickly took note of the aircraft's interior, as well as the presence of the Twerp Trio around them. The repeated slams of his paw against Jessie's back let his teammates know he'd reached the limit of life without oxygen.

Both team members took the hint and backed away, unleashing an enormous gasp into the room. Jessie held Meowth at arm's length from his armpits before lowering him back onto the seat.

"What did I miss?" he asked with a paw pressed against his temple.

"It's a long stor—" James began until light beyond the window darkened briefly. The bluenette was about to make a mad dash for the cockpit until joined cries filtered in through the windows. Ash barreled past them, slamming into the door and wrenching it open as if it were the last thing standing between him and being a pokémon master.

The boy from Pallet hadn't even taken two steps out the aircraft before getting pounced on by a yellow blur. Ash's stunned and fearful expression didn't last long before the laughs burst from him and mixed tears of relief and joy started to flow. Staravia fluttered beside them and gave the beaked equivalent of a smile.

Brock wanted to smile, to join in on the happiness and be lost in the moment like Ash was, but a sideways glance at Dawn's expression dragged him back to the reality of their situation. Brock couldn't blame Ash for only seeing his longest and most trusted friend, but he also couldn't blame Dawn for seeing the creature that had killed one of her pokémon.

While subtle, Brock noted the way Jessie and James inched away from Ash and Pikachu. Years of struggle and failure hadn't been enough to deter the duo from following them across four entire regions and a few oceans. But now, the wary look in their eyes told him they now wanted to put that same amount of distance between them.

"Are they? No they couldn't be, but their eyes…They're…they're actually afraid of Pikachu!" he mused.

It didn't take a genius to figure out why, especially after what he'd told James about Ambipom's fate and the sudden disappearance of the Aerodactyl. If he were honest with himself, the thought of what that adorable creature nuzzling against Ash's face could do to all of them in an instant sent a chill down his spine.

"So did we get in anudda temporary truce wit da twerps?" Meowth asked aloud.

Four pairs of eyes silently turned to stare at the Rocket duo for confirmation.

"We did," James affirmed with gentle nod back to their temporary partners. "But, Meowth, how are you feeling?"

"My whole body's sore and it's like my melon's bin blended an' poured back in," he said with a groan.

"Pikachu looks all right," Ash chimed in with a smile, which quickly disappeared upon seeing Dawn's scowl.

"We should check to see if our other pokémon are okay too," Brock said.

"I'm going to check the ship to make sure it isn't too damaged to lift off again. If you're gonna check on your Pokémon, do it outside," James added as he moved past them and out of the aircraft. The others quickly followed suit while Jessie and Meowth stayed behind.

"Aren't ya gonna go wit dem, Jessie?" Meowth asked.

"The others got hurt really badly so I'll wait until the older twerp is done checking on his Pokémon before I ask him to check mine," Jessie replied.

"Jessie, what happened?" Meowth whispered once the others were out of sight.

"You mean you don't remember?"

Meowth only shook his head. "I rememba da fight b'tween you and James. Us callin' da boss, gettin' a plane, sleepin' on the ship, then my head started hurtin' an'…"

Jessie noticed Meowth freeze, his eyes widening and his jaw going slack. She figured he was seeing what had happened and put her hand on his shoulder.

"It's not your fault, Meowth. I don't think you hurt anyone," she said in an attempt to calm the demons that were starting to reappear within Meowth's psyche.

"It's not dat, Jessie. I rememba bits an' pieces of what happened, but dere was a voice in my head. I don't rememba everyting he said but…" Meowth trailed off, his paws on his legs as he wrung the fur in his grip.

"But what, Meowth? What did the voice say? Do you know who the voice belonged to?" Jessie pressed on, hoping to decipher the past hours' events.

Meowth's reply was a shake of his head. "Whoever it was he said that he'd given us da powah ta take…back…something."

"Do you remember anything else?"

"It's fuzzy but I rememba hearin' da word humans and…"

"And what Meowth?" A vague sense of unease permeated Jessie as she processed Meowth's last words. But for knowledge's sake, she had to press on.

Meowth had debated on whether or not to divulge the last word he had heard, but hiding something like that from his teammates might end up making things worse later on.

"…Kill…" He shuddered as if the word itself pained him.

***

"So what's the damage?"

James turned to face the former gym leader, his stony expression at odds with the beaming Happiny in his arms.

"The Aerodactyl's last attack punched a hole in the fuel line. I can fix it, but it'll take some time to make sure the leak is sealed," James replied as he examined the damaged hull of the tilt-rotor. The heady scent of aviation fuel confirmed his statement.

"How long will that take to patch up?"

"Damage like this?" James removed a punctured hull plate, exposing the damaged area. He examined it for a few seconds, doing the math in his head. "It's not the Meowth balloon but I could probably patch this up in less than an hour."

"I guess that'll have to do." The breeder relented and started walking away. He made it a few steps before stopping to turn back. "I forgot to ask, how's Mime Jr.?"

"To be honest I haven't checked on him yet, but judging from your Happiny I'm sure he's fine. I left his pokéball with Jessie's party," James replied with a smile.

"Yeah, she's fine. Croagunk and Sudowoodo are okay as well."

"And the twer…your friends?" he asked.

"Their pokémon are fine but…"

James allowed for a few seconds of silence before gently urging him to continue.

"It's Dawn. I overheard her…she…she's telling her pokémon about Ambipom," Brock replied.

"And you don't think she should?" James asked.

"No, I…it's just…the way she's telling them. She's hurt and angry that she's the only one of us that lost a pokémon. I get that she's hurt and angry and I tried to get her to consider that Ambipom was originally part of Ash's party and that he's hurting just as much, but seeing him with Pikachu earlier makes it hard for her to believe that. I can't reason with her when she's like this."

"She's going to need some time to sort this out, but I'm sure she'll come around eventually."

"I know that, but it doesn't make the waiting any easier."

The brief silence that ensued was broken suddenly with a weak chuckle from the former gym leader.

"Something funny?" James asked as he gently moved some wiring aside.

"This situation. Just us talking like…like this. I never would've thought I'd be sharing these kinds of issues with you of all people."

James gave a weak smile and nodded. "We're all in the same boat right now and while this isn't the first time we've gotten together because of a crisis, I can see how this situation could be a little funny."

"Well I've taken enough of your time so I'll leave you to get to it." Brock sighed and made his way around the craft, the crunch of gravel and sand marking each step.

"Brock?" James eventually blurted out, finding that the name sounded foreign coming from him.

"Yeah?" the breeder called out from his spot behind the aircraft once the sound of his footfalls had stopped.

"If you could check on Jessie's pokémon for me…I'd appreciate it."

A passing breeze filled the gap of silence that hung between them until Brock finally replied.  
"Sure, James."

***

"I'm really glad that you guys are all right. I need to talk with Brock for a bit so just relax while I get back," Ash announced as he pushed himself up from his knees and made his way around the ship and out of view.

"You guys all saw that, right?" Buizel said, finding himself on the receiving end of five pairs of eyes.

"Yeah, I did," Pikachu eventually replied. Staravia and Chimchar nodded quietly in affirmation.

"Wait, what're guys talking about?" Gliscor asked, eyes darting between his teammates in hopes of some clue.

"Of course the one who constantly tackles him wouldn't know," Buizel replied with a huff as he turned his back to him.

"He's hurting" Chimchar explained.

"Really? He looked fine to me," the aeroscorp replied. "He seemed really happy to see us. How could you tell he was in pain?"

"Trust me, I can tell." Chimchar's stare was cold and heavy.

"He does seem to be hiding some discomfort," Staravia pointed out.

"Last night when we…you don't think one of us might've…" Turtwig's question trailed off as he glanced around the ring of solemn expressions that wouldn't meet his eyes.

"It's…possible" Staravia eventually replied.

"If we hurt him, wouldn't he have said something about it?" Gliscor interjected.

"Ash has always tried to hide his discomfort, even if we're the ones that've hurt him," Pikachu replied.

"So who do you think did it?" the water weasel coldly muttered, casting another cloud of silence over the group.

"To be honest I can't really remember what happened that night," Gliscor replied.

"I too, find the previous night's events to be rather hazy," Staravia added.

"The pain made it a little hard to remember anything that was happening," Turtwig followed up.

"How convenient for all of you then," Buizel growled.

"And what about you, Buizel! If you know so much about last night how about you tell us!" Turtwig snapped.

Buizel was quiet for some time, an internal struggle made apparent by his expression as he worked out his next response. "Did none of you hear those…those words" he hissed back, his revelation deflating some of their anger.

Each of them stared at each other for support, unsure about what he was talking about.

"That voice in our heads," Pikachu calmly added, shifting everyone's focus over to him.

"Okay, so I'm not crazy." Buizel sighed. His rigid posture suddenly relaxed and revealed an exhausted water weasel.

"Okay, I'm lost now. You both heard a voice?" the aeroscorp chimed in.

"It was faint because of everything that was happening, but I definitely heard a voice in my head. As to what it said, I was only able to hear a few words."

"Same here, that's why I was worried it had been me," Pikachu added.

"Might we trouble the two of you to elaborate on what those words are?" Gliscor asked.

Pikachu stared at Buizel for a few seconds before looking towards the aircraft. "Buizel, mind explaining it to them? I wanna check on Buneary and the others and see if they had the same situation," he said.

Buizel threw him an aggravated look, clearly displeased at being saddled with explaining the situation by himself.

"Fine…" came the water weasel's huff of resignation, "but make it quick! I don't know if we both heard the same things."

"Will do!" Pikachu smiled and darted off around the ship and over to Dawn's group, leaving Buizel with his expectant audience already boring holes through his back with their eyes.

"If we're all together, why were our groups even separated?"

***

Brock was just making his way around the aircraft when he saw Ash standing beside the cockpit.

"Hey Ash, what's up?" The concerned look in the trainer's eyes told him the visit was not for idle chitchat. "Is something wrong with one of your pokémon?"

"No, they're fine," Ash replied. "It's just that…I know you're not a human doctor but, my arm's been feeling itchy these last few hours. I didn't think anything about it until I went to the bathroom mirror and looked at it and I wanted to know if you knew anything about this."

Brock said nothing, already having an idea of what he was going to be shown when Ash rolled up his sleeves. At first glance the jagged marks on his skin looked almost artistic, like a tattoo. The ends were flowery strokes that traced some unseen pattern and branched off like a tree, while the stem was an erratic line, not unlike a lightning bolt.

"Is it like a rash?"

"Not like any I've ever seen. Maybe we landed in something when we ran away from our pokémon. I can't think of anything we've touched in those woods that would've caused this reaction to us."

"Us?" Ash asked.

Brock nodded and pulled at his collar, showing a similar design all along his shoulder and arm.  
"Dawn has some along her back. I noticed when she was throwing up in the bathroom."

Ash winced at the mention of her name, turning to face the ship and staring at it, almost as if he were trying to see through it to where Dawn was. "How is she?"

"How do you think she is, Ash? This is the first time she's lost a pokémon. I figured the both of you would be feeling terrible about the whole thing since Ambipom wasn't just her pokémon."

Ash quietly stared at him for a few seconds. "In all honesty I'm…I'm trying not to think about it too much. I sometimes…it just pops up and I can't help it. It hurts, a lot. More than Celebi and Lucario," Ash replied, as he kept his eyes trained on the floor.

"You only knew them for a few days. Aipom was…" Brock stopped himself the moment he saw Ash's eyes shimmer. A second later, the boy's cap was pulled down, veiling his eyes.

Ash's previous action was a truly rare instance. A brief instant in time where he revealed himself to be just as vulnerable as any boy his age. Given that Brock had seen Ash do this a dozen times, it was a true testament to their years of friendship. The moment lasted a few seconds before the cap lifted up and revealed Ash's brown eyes free of tears and fully composed once more.

"I'm sad, but I'm grateful that Pikachu and my other pokémon are okay. Being sad right now isn't going to help get us out of this place any faster. We need to get Dawn home and…and…I don't know what I'll do at that point, but we'll figure it out when we get there," Ash said.

"Okay," Brock replied, knowing there were some battles that needed temporary retreats before victory could be claimed. "Just don't bottle all of it up, 'kay?"

Ash didn't look at him as he walked out of view, muttering something Brock could only decipher as, "I'll try."

***

Pikachu immediately took note of the tension in the air as he drew closer to Dawn's party. The lack of cheerful chatter or any other words, for that matter, was the first thing he noticed. Another detail he noticed was that no one in the group looked at one another.

There was a sense of emptiness that hung about them, as if something was missing.

He immediately noticed that Dawn was not there. While it was true that her presence was not felt, it couldn't account for the cloud of dread that permeated the air around the coordinator's group. It wasn't immediately apparent until Pikachu began to count the other members.

"Piplup, Swinub, Pachirisu, Buneary," he said aloud as he looked over the group, "and…wher—"

"Leave," Swinub growled. "They don't want to talk to you right now." The venom in his tone froze Pikachu in his tracks.

"Guys, what's going o—"

"Go! Away!" Pachirisu snapped, his yellow cheeks flaring to life with arcs of writhing electricity.

Speechless, Pikachu glanced at Piplup and Buneary for some kind of answer. Their actions spoke louder than any words they could have mustered; the former shot a steely glare his way and then theatrically turned his back. The latter gave him a look laced with equal parts concern, fear, sadness and anger.

"Is it true?" came Buneary's tremulous question, eyes shimmering more and more the longer she stared at him.

"Is what true? What are all of you talking about? What did I do?" the electric starter replied, completely loss as to what he was guilty of.

Buneary spun to face the others. Whatever weakness her voice had carried when speaking to him had been replaced with iron as she spoke with her teammates. "He doesn't know. His trainer didn't tell him. Let me talk to him!"

As Buneary spoke, she stared down each of her teammates, daring them to challenge her. Within a few seconds, the air was filled with several growls and mumbles of begrudging approval.

Pikachu watched the bunny pokémon hop over to him, grab him by the paw and lead him away from her group.

It became quickly apparent that the place she had in mind for their private conference was far away from the ship and deep inside the quarry. Pikachu would've protested that they shouldn't be so far away from the group but held his tongue. Curiosity as to what he was being blamed for overrode his sense of caution but at the same time, the implications of what Buneary was going to tell him worried him.

The tilt-rotor craft was well out of sight before Buneary felt that they were far enough to be out of earshot and let go of Pikachu's paw.

"Okay, so what was that about?" Pikachu asked.

"What do you remember about last night?"Buneary asked.

"I remember waking up to this blinding pain and I think I was letting loose some lightning."

Buneary's flinch at the mention of his element did not escape his notice, the fur around her body raised momentarily before settling down once more as he resumed speaking.

"I think I hurt Ash but he's trying to hide it." Pikachu noticed Buneary's expression change. "Bun, did I hurt someone from your group?" Dread at her answer began to well up within him.

Buneary's eyes started shimmering once more, enough that her eyes could no longer hold back the tears. "I-I tried telling them you didn't do it on purpose, that it must've been an accident! I did, I really did!"

Pikachu gently grabbed her shoulders to steady her. "I know you did, Bun, but I need to know what happened."

"There's no easy way to tell you this…but Ambi's dead."

Whatever warmth Pikachu once had felt ripped out of him, leaving behind a hollow shell, a somber echo within.

"Dawn told us…Ambi's heart was stopped by one of your lightning bolts. I know you two were close before she started working with Dawn so I know this hurts you just as much as it hurts the others. The others can't seem to get that. They don't hate you, they're just…" Buneary paused to wipe her eyes as she fished for the right word. "…having a hard time dealing with what happened."

The cloud that had hung over Dawn's party had apparently migrated over to them now. Tears flowed freely from Pikachu's eyes now, as dozens of memories from the forefront of his thoughts. Aipom had always held a special place in Pikachu's heart, something deeper than simple camaraderie that he had with his other teammates but more along the lines of the bonds he shared with Bulbasaur, Squirtle and Charizard.

There was a sense of kinship he had shared with her despite not having been on the team for as long as some of Ash's previous catches. She had been one of the few pokémon that insisted on remaining outside of her pokéball and had taken her place atop Ash's other shoulder. Even after she joined Dawn's group, he had never stopped looking at her as one of their teammates.

"I…I killed her." The grim realization came to him, hitting him harder than any attack he had ever taken since he started his journey with Ash. The moment he realized his paws were still on Buneary, he jerked them away.

"You're not gonna hurt me," she said as she intercepted his paws and clasped onto them. "I know you better than that. You'd never try and hurt us if you could help it. This was an accident. I'm sad she's gone, but this doesn't change the way I feel about you."

Buneary's voice sounded distant, Pikachu could barely make out the words in the depths of his own mind.

"That Aerodactyl I attacked…I knew it looked and smelled different but I…it's dead too! I killed it! I killedAmbipom! IhurtAsh! WhatifIkillAshwhatifhe'llbenextwhatifIkilleveryone…"

Buneary watched as Pikachu started falling over and rushed in to steady him. He hung there for a moment before regaining his footing. The stone beneath him darkened where his tears fell. She noticed the sudden twitch of his ears as he pushed himself away from her with a desperate look in his eyes.

"Bun, where's her body?" he asked.

"Dawn…Dawn says they left it back at the camp. I think we're back at the place where Piplup and I brought down the Aerodactyl, so I guess it's a really long way from here. Why?"

Pikachu made a fist, his entire body shaking in a mixture of sorrow and rage. Just as quickly as the desperate idea had formed in his mind, reality saw fit to shoot it down. Even if her body was there, did they even have enough pokémon, enough tears to bring her back like they had Ash?

"No reason." Pikachu exhaled as he unclenched the fist he'd made, finding Buneary's own paw enclosing onto his.

"I'm here for you," she whispered, giving him a weak smile that might as well have been a spear through his heart. Pikachu had always known Buneary's feelings for him, feelings that he admittedly hadn't reciprocated.

The crunch of gravel stole the focus from his thoughts. It was a subtle noise; the sound of one trying to move without being noticed.

Normally Pikachu wouldn't have noticed a noise from such a distance with such clarity. But ever since that night, all his senses felt sharper, more refined. His movements felt stronger, yet effortless. Stranger still was the word that kept floating to the surface of his thoughts whenever he questioned these newfound strengths: complete. He had been given something he had never known to be lacking, leaving him feeling whole and powerful.

The sensation before the pain of the night prior started as what he could only be described as a tingling, as if something were crawling under his skin, starting from the ends of his body and working its way to his core. And then pressure began to build within him, threatening to make him throw up without any actual nausea or substance. Trying to fight the sensation resulted in an instant and merciless headache that made him feel as though his head were splitting. And then the tingling was replaced by blinding hypersensitivity.

Quiet sounds became deafening white noise, subtle aromas became mind-numbing stenches and at one point he became acutely aware of every hair on his body. His element surged through his veins in a desperate fight for release to the outside world. The more he fought to keep it in, the more it burst forth until darkness and exhaustion took him. Somewhere in the midst of all of that he had murdered his teammate.

The moment he awoke, he saw Ash and his friends under duress. Moving on instinct, without orders from Ash or anyone in the plane, he acted. He had seen what was happening and reacted on what he thought was the best course of action. Never had it crossed his mind that the creature he attacked had suffered the same fate as Ambipom.

Carried along with the initial noise was the faint scent of blood; a scent Pikachu had recognized well from the moment he smelled it emanating from the Aerodactyl's toothy maw. At least until the smell was replaced with charred and smoking flesh. Whatever crept through the quarry to reach them did not smell remotely friendly.

"Pikachu, did you hear that?" Buneary asked. Both of her ears were now extended to catch another instance of the noise.

"Yeah. It doesn't smell friendly. We need to head back and warn the others. I'll warn my group, you warn yours," Pikachu said.

Buneary's nod was quickly followed by a wince when the electric starter burst from his spot with blinding speed, sending an earthen spray in the opposite direction. Pikachu didn't check to see if Buneary was catching up with him. His focus tunneled onto the single goal of warning the others. Once that was done he could start working on a way to mount a defense against whatever was heading towards them.

***

Combat was something he understood, it was easier to manage than thoughts of Ambipom and her death. Buizel and the others quickly came into view, already on alert from the way he came at them.

"Have you seen Ash?" he asked. In the back of his mind he noted that he wasn't even remotely winded from his sprint.

"He hasn't come back yet. What's going on? Did Dawn's group hear something similar?" Buizel asked.

"I didn't get that far. Buneary and I heard something heading our way and it doesn't smell like something that wants to be friendly."

"What do you suggest we do?"

That single sentence transformed Pikachu. In a moment, he had switched roles from pokémon to trainer.

"Rave, we're gonna need some eyes in the sky! See if you can find out what's heading our way but don't let them know you're there. Turtwig, you're fast, so go find Meowth and tell him to let the others know something's heading our way! Chim, go underground and make a series of h—" he barked

"Shouldn't we wait for Ash?" Gliscor interjected.

Pikachu paused, realizing that what he was doing was something normally within Ash's jurisdiction.

"There's no time, Glis!" Pikachu exclaimed. "We don't have time to wait for him to get here, explain the situation and then wait for his orders."

"Where do you need me?" Buizel asked as he poked Pikachu in the shoulder.

"Zel, go see if Buneary is back with her group and let her know what we're planning, then come back and tell me what you've got. Glis, go and find Brock's pokémon and get them ready. I'll stay here and come up with what you should do when you get back. Are we clear?"

"Clear!" five voices cried in unison before the group split off on their assigned tasks leaving the electric starter standing by himself.


	6. Shell Shocked

Keluruselqa moved through the rock quarry, his movements mere shadows of whispers, or so he liked to believe. Mere feet away were the other Kabutops that saw the metal bird land in the quarry. Even further behind were the Omastar, hoping to catch a bite themselves but keeping their distance lest they overstep their bounds as the scavengers. There were no Kabuto left in his group, all of them having evolved during the early hours of the day, back when the creatures that roamed the streets had been plentiful.

The voice that had spoken to him in his mind had called the creatures "humans" and told them that the world they had known had been taken away by these very same creatures. A surge of power then welled within him, awakening a primal yet foreign hunger.

As a Kabuto his first few kills had gone been much easier than he had expected. What the humans made up for in size, they lacked in speed and strength. Even the simplest attacks were too much for them to handle, making him wonder how they had ever taken the world from his kind in the first place.

He could still hear their screams and feel their pitiful excuse for claws raking ineffectively against his shell in a desperate attempt to pull him off their faces. How the cries became gurgles when he pried the supple flesh off the bone. He watched the Kabutops slash through their prey and bury their heads into freshly made wounds.

He envied the lethal speed and savage strength of the Kabutops. Eventually, that envy manifested in a flash of white light.

It was if some deity had heard his wishes. He opened his eyes and found he was several feet off the ground. His first few steps were clumsy, stumbling over the sudden changes in his body. Despite his clumsy movements, hunting down the humans became even easier than before. At some point, he switched from hunting to slaughtering.

As the sun rose higher into the sky, he quickly grew to realize his mistake. He was now hungry, and the kills left behind in his orgy of bloodlust had been picked clean. The streets were fairly empty now, save for the other groups looking for their own food. Humans had been plentiful and easy meals but Kel and his group weren't sure they wanted to take on creatures that could put up a fight — or even win — like the Cradily or Armaldo.

A pecking order was quickly established once the grey flying one began to hunger. Many quickly learned to duck for cover and hide whenever a shadow passed overhead. Those that didn't soon found themselves becoming the hunted. Some groups formed an uneasy truce, out of the simple hope of not drawing the attention of the flying one.

As luck would have it, the Aerodactyl's reign was short lived when another creature entered the sky. It was fast, able to dodge most of the flying one's attacks until one finally connected. This new flying creature responded in kind and hit its attacker with lightning, killing it instantly. Kel's group ran to the landing site of the felled creature, but found that the Cradily had beaten them to the meal.

While slow, the Cradily were sturdy, and did not need to move quickly to attack. Kel had watched one of its earlier victims attempt to strike it, only to drop dead as its lifeforce was siphoned out of its body. Others out of leeching range were met with splashes of acid and orbs of green energy.

Kel and his group begrudgingly backed off and began attacking the vacant buildings to vent their frustration. Lapajarvi, another former Kabuto that was resurrected after him approached him with a bold plan.

"What of the new flying creature?" Lap asked.

"What of it?" Kel replied.

"It's wounded and had to land." Lap motioned with his scythe over to the quarry across the ravine.

"What exactly are you suggesting?"

"We can sneak into its midst and finish it off. You saw how much bigger it was, think of the meat."

"I also saw how much more powerful it was."

"It can't get all of us," Lap whispered. "That last attack must've been debilitating enough to make it land; it might already be half dead."

"Others may be thinking the same," Kel replied. He saw that Lap's will was not diminished by this possibility.

"If any others make it before us and the creature is strong enough to fight back, then it may kill some of our competition. It will be weakened by the encounter and we can finish it off more easily. Double the meat."

With an offer like that it didn't take much to rally the others to the cause and to make their way across the bridge and into the quarry.

Kel and his group moved quietly at first, hoping to not alert the beast or any possible attackers of their presence. He made sure to peek around every corner before letting the rest of the group pass and found that his carefulness was soon rewarded with the sight of the flying creature, grounded and still.

Whatever joy he'd drawn from the sight was drained from him at the sight of several creatures already surrounding the downed flying creature. Upon closer inspection he noticed that a few of them were just humans that quickly hid behind or inside of the flying creature's body, confirming that it was dead as far as Kel was concerned. Among the humans were other creatures that were considerably smaller in size and weren't hiding.

He scanned the area, wondering how to go about the attack. Their prey was surrounded on all sides by stone, the only way out would be through the open path and around the bend. Scaling the stone didn't offer much of an advantage, nor did running headfirst into the fray.

Tactics did not seem to be on Lap's mind, seeing as the moment Kel told him of their opposition, Lap ran out and claimed that he would have the biggest slice of the meat. Keeping the others in control after that was like trying to caress something lovingly with the edge of his scythes.

Lap had a good lead on the others until one of his legs plunged through the ground and forced him to reacquaint his face with the earth. He stabbed at the ground as he tried to get back onto his feet. The moment he tried to find purchase with the other scythe, it sank through what appeared to be another hole. Sand erupted from the ground as Lap was hurled into the air.

The force of whatever struck him from below was enough to dislodge both of his blades and knock him onto his back. A tiny red creature landed on his chest, an open flame on its backside flared just before a river of flame erupted from the creature's mouth and over Lap's face.

Lap screamed. He frantically slashed at everything and anything nearby as he tried to put the flames out. The fire creature leapt back and retreated into one of the holes that he had unveiled.

Other Kabutops kept running, the promise of meat too tantalizing to ignore. Others stopped to help their burning comrade or at the least, get a quick and easy meal. Some kicked sand onto Lap in an attempt to save him, but their efforts weren't enough to stifle the hunger of the flames.

Dozens of glowing stars and leaves came to greet the horde of eager Kabutops. Their desire for food was so great that even when torn in half by the projectiles, their lower bodies continued for a few more feet before toppling onto the sand. One of the Kabutops that stayed behind tried stabbing the holes in the ground, thinking he had skewered the little beast as he twisted the blade left to right. The fate of the tiny fire creature was quickly answered when a tower of fire erupted from the hole and engulfed the shellfish pokémon.

Kel couldn't help but consider that the creatures that were attacking them somehow already knew his group was coming given how well prepared they were. More and more Kabutops were falling into holes made by the fire beast. Those that weren't set on fire, or diced by stars and leaves were introduced to a new method of death in being frozen in place by a thin cerulean beam.

Some of the burning Kabutops thrashed blindly in an attempt to put out the fires that ate away at their flesh. Their actions proved worse than useless. Their panicked flailing only served to dismember or ignite their neighbors.

A wall of bubbles flew at them, each burst releasing an explosion powerful enough to rip the limbs off any unfortunate creature nearby when it ruptured. Those who avoided the concussive blast were peppered and shredded by their comrades' exoskeletons turned shrapnel.

Kel was about to give the order to retreat but when he turned around, he noticed the horde of Omastar amassing behind them. They were a lot closer than scavengers had any right to be and the distance between them was growing shorter with every death his group suffered.

He recognized the look in their eyes because it was the same look that Lap had sported when he burst ahead of them: hunger.

The dread washed over him like a wave. In trying to be the first to reach their next meal, they never considered that they themselves would become the force meant to distract and weaken their targets.

The Omastar would be scavengers no more.

***

Brock risked a peek from out of the ship. A sense of amazed horror washed over him as he gazed out upon the slaughter. Part of him felt happy that their pokémon had taken no casualties — or even injuries. The distinction between a trained pokémon and a wild pokémon was evident in this massacre.

How was this any different from what the Muk were doing in Hearthome City? Instead of people, it was wild pokémon. These were prehistoric creatures taken from their era — creatures still hardwired to function on the rules of that time period. Eat or be eaten. Kill or be killed.

"Given the chance they would kill you and everyone here without a second thought."

"Given the chance, none of them would've wanted to have been resurrected into this time period in the first place."

Conflicting thoughts swirled within Brock's mind. He wasn't sure whether to turn away in disgust, congratulate their pokémon for their battle prowess, examine everything with a scientist's dispassionate eye or just pretend the massacre wasn't happening.

As he watched the slaughter, he couldn't help but notice that Pikachu had yet to unleash any electric attacks. If his outburst the night before was anything to go off of, a single blast of electricity could end the battle in mere seconds. Even more astonishing, from what he could see, Pikachu was telling the others what to do.

"Brock, what's happening?" Dawn's voice broke him from his ruminations. He turned around to see the coordinator with Happiny in her arms.

The breeder looked back, seeing everyone huddled close but ready to dodge anything that was thrown at them.

Croagunk, Sudowoodo, Gliscor, Meowth, Swinub and Mime Jr. had stayed with the trainers as they lacked reliable long-range attacks.

"Things look like they're going…well. It doesn't look like any of our pokémon are hurt," he replied.

Ash turned as he overheard the conversation. "The other pokémon that they're fighting…are the attacks that are hitting them. Are they making the other pokémon…faint?"

"No, Ash." Brock finished grimly, before peeking back out of one of the holes in the fuselage.

***

One of the Kabutops dove into their midst, having avoided everything that had been thrown at the horde. Piplup dodged the scythe stabbing into the ground where he had stood only a second ago. He was about to prepare another Bubblebeam, but thought better of it. At such close range the explosions — if its previous victims were anything to go off of — were just as likely to harm him and his allies.

He weighed his movepool. Creating a whirlpool would take too long. Going at the creature with his beak invited a lethal retaliatory blow if he missed or his opponent survived the initial strike. Pachirisu found himself caught in the same situation, having little to no physical capability and with long-range attacks that were as likely to harm him or his allies as they were to damage the enemy.

While brief, the momentary lapse in their offensive was all the incentive two other Kabutops needed to move in. Turtwig used Razor Leaf as he charged in. The sharp leaves simply deflected off the Kabutops's blades but having to deal with another attacker slowed them down a bit. Piplup hopped over a horizontal slash only to feel the presence of another blade coming down from behind him. A keening screech filled the air as Pikachu's Iron Tail collided with the bony blade. A quick spin sent the blade off its deadly trajectory.

Pikachu hit the ground on all fours, positioning his tail across his back and bracing himself for the inevitable follow up strike while he was down. Half a second passed without incident, making Pikachu shift his gaze up to see why the next blow hadn't landed. The blade from the Kabutops's free arm was still raised high in the air.

Staravia had grabbed the arm just below the blade and was flapping with all his might as if he were trying to pull the arm off its owner.

A sphere of water soared over Pikachu's head and burst against the Kabutops behind him and Piplup. The Kabutops reared her other scythe for another strike. If the aquatic attack had done anything, it succeeded in agitating her. Before the blade could complete its arc, the water glistening off her body hardened into ice and held her in place from the neck down.

A pale blue beam — courtesy of Buneary — dissipated just in time for her to duck beneath the eager slash of another Kabutops beside her. Pikachu was about to run in to help her until he saw Chimchar burst out of the ground and slam his fist into the shellfish pokémon's jaw at the exact same moment that Turtwig tackled the back of its legs. The Kabutops's cry from behind him served as an excellent reminder of where his priorities lay.

Pikachu sprung into the air and swung his metallic tail at the nearest target. He felt a little bit of resistance as the blade caught his target's throat. Her widened eyes stared back at him as he forced his tail deeper into the wound. He was already halfway through her neck and twisted his body to push another few centimeters through.

Ash's starter watched the light leave her eyes just before gravity took over and pulled her head from his view. Whilst in its metallic state, Pikachu never once felt the warmth of her blue blood on his tail.

"Someone else is dead because of me." The somber thought was quickly pushed from his mind when the sounds of battle reached him.

Staravia released the Kabutops's arm and quickly twisted away to move back into the skies. Piplup saw the opening and leapt at his newest attacker, funneling the energy of his body into his beak until it glowed and elongated. The Kabutops took note and retaliated faster than the water starter had anticipated.

Pikachu watched in dismay as the blades closed in on Piplup but he was too far away to do anything. Adrenaline coursed through his body, slowing everyone's movements to a crawl. In fact, the moment the battle had started, everything seemed to be moving slower than usual. At first it had been an advantage that Pikachu couldn't help but appreciate. Now it felt like a curse as he watched the tips of the blade draw closer and closer in slow motion.

"I can hit him with one of my bolts…but what if Piplup gets caught in the blast. That's another death on my paws. Another one of Dawn's party, another friend gone because of me. But if I don't he'll die anyway. Everyone else is too far to do anything. Will they blame me if I don't try? But if I do…"

It came then as a surprise when a glowing white cone stabbed through the Kabutops's chest, throwing its body out of the Penguin pokémon's path. Piplup's momentum carried him a few more feet before he spun through the air, landed and dissipated the gathered energy in his beak. Thoughts of checking to make sure the Kabutops was truly dead were forgotten when another glowing spike punched through the air next to Piplup's head.

The battlefield was littered with the bodies of fallen Kabutops, some blackened from the fires, others frozen in place and many had been reduced to scattered limbs and shell fragments scarcely recognizable as once belonging to a pokémon. Standing at the edge of the carnage was a line of Omastar, the spikes on their spiral shells glowing briefly just before launching another round of spikes.

Turtwig had little difficulty darting between the spikes, being fast and a small target. Staravia twisted and weaved around the shots aimed at him as he moved steadily over to the Omastar's side of the battlefield in hopes of redirecting some of their attacks away from the others. Chimchar dove through the earth as if it were no more solid than water. Buneary used the spikes as stepping stones, her momentum turning the spikes away from the ship. But soon, the rain of projectiles became too overwhelming and forced her to retreat into one of Chimchar's earlier holes.

Buizel did not share that advantage, being too large to fit into Chimchar's subterranean network. He darted back and forth across the battlefield as a torpedo of water, drawing most of their fire as he approached and retreated. Piplup, while being small enough to follow Chimchar and Buneary into their place of safety, lacked their agility. Which is where Pikachu came in.

Tufts of dirt burst from the earth with every swipe of Pikachu's tail as he deflected the incoming spikes into the ground. The clangs from every collision against his tail soon became a continuous ring as he transformed into a yellow and gray blur. Piplup could do little more than watch at his teammate's astounding speed.

Little did the water starter know was that as impressive as Pikachu's feat was, it was extremely tiring and was his energy was quickly flagging.

The ground beneath Pikachu and Piplup's feet gave out before his body did, plummeting them into a wide trench. The fall itself wasn't very far — a few feet at most — but it was enough that a row of spikes adorned the lip of the trench just above their heads. Chimchar, Pachirisu, Buneary, and Turtwig appeared next to them.

"Nice to see you guys." Pikachu sighed, letting his tail shift back to its normal color.

"Sorry for the sudden drop, but you looked like you needed a breather," Chimchar explained.

Pikachu huffed playfully. "What took you?"

"Figured I should take care of Zel first, seeing as you looked like you had everything under control."

"So what's the plan?" Turtwig interjected, nervously eyeing the spikes that had fallen into the hole with them.

"He's right. First off, where's everyone?" Pikachu asked.

"I dug Zel his own trench but he can't fit through the tunnel network I've made. Whatever we're gonna do, he's gonna have to do it from there and one of us will have to relay it to him. I honestly don't know where Rave is but last I saw he might be behind those blue guys."

"How many more tunnels can you make?" Piplup asked.

Chimchar's eyes lowered to the ground. "Making this entire network on such short notice took a lot out of me. Normally, the ground moves aside really easily. But after making larger trenches for you guys and Zel…" The fire starter placed his hands on the ground for emphasis, managing to make a few granules move and nothing more.

"Got any tunnels underneath those new guys?"

"Not sure. I'd have to check," the fire chimp said as he climbed up to the edge of the trench for a quick peek. The instant the tuft of fur on his head appeared above the surface of the trench several spikes carved across the soil and embedded themselves into the wall behind them.

"Looks like they're watching us closely," Piplup dryly commented.

Chimchar hopped back down from the wall and felt the area where one spike nearly had nearly shaved him.

"We'd need to lure them into where one of my tunnels are."

Pikachu's ears twitched and he closed his eyes. "The Omastar are moving toward us. It's slow, but they're moving."

"I'll go tell Buizel, try and come up with a plan while I'm gone," the grass turtle said before vanishing into the tunnel.

"Couldn't…" Pachirisu started then stopped, scowling at the ground as if a foul taste had entered his mouth.

"Couldn't what?" Turtwig asked, emerging back out of the tunnel.

"You." Pachirisu's eyes flitted over to his Kantonian counterpart. "This could be over if you just—"

"Don't!" Buneary exclaimed, taking a step towards him.

"Why! He's already done it once! This time he'll at least be saving someone!"

Pikachu winced and looked away until Piplup stepped forward.

"Cut it out, Pach! I'll be the first to admit I was angry and I wasn't thinking. Pikachu's our friend and Buneary's right. You're electric too, so why don't you do it?"

"I…I'm not as strong as him, okay!" A rosy hue colored the bridge of his nose as he spoke.

"Can someone please tell me what exactly we're talking about?" Chimchar's expression switched from concern to anger.

"I…Ambi's…" Pikachu struggled to get the words out, until Buneary's paw encompassed his.

"Now's not the time," she said. "We'll talk about this later."

"So what's the plan?" Turtwig asked as he emerged from the tunnels, keeping his distance from the fire starter's flaming backside.

"We don—" the fire starter started to say until Pikachu cut him off.

"I'll do it," he said grimly. Everyone within the trench became deathly silent.

"Wait, you don't have to-"

"I do, Bun. He's right. I can keep our friends from being hurt if I do it. But I won't be able to do it alone. I'm gonna need your help, Pip."

There wasn't a second of hesitation when Piplup nodded and replied. "What do you need?"

***

Things had gotten quiet but far too much time had passed without seeing their pokémon for the battle to be over. New opposition had appeared as soon as the Kabutops had been dealt with. The ground between them and the battlefield had been littered with spikes, sticking out of the ground at odd angles from their landing. None of them had so much as even grazed the ship seeing as it wasn't the target for the time being.

That would be subject to change once the Omastar got closer and more curious as to what was inside the out-of-place giant metal tube. Brock had moved over to the copilot's seat, the holes in the fuselage no longer providing a good vantage point when the events shifted more towards the front of the ship. The sudden shift of the sliding door behind him made him flinch. He was about to shush the person when he realized it was Jessie and said nothing to her, seeing as it was her ship after all.

"You've been gone for a while, the twerps asked me to check on you" she whispered, making herself comfortable on the pilot's chair. "So what's happening? Did we win?"

"Not yet. First it was Kabutops, now its Omastar but they're still out there and they haven't started making a big move forward. There's some holes in the ground and I think our pokémon are hiding in there," Brock whispered back.

"What's all of that on the ground?" Jessie motioned towards the battlefield where brown shapes lay amidst the blue splattered gray stone.

"I think that used to be the Kabutops that Meowth warned us about," Brock replied darkly.

"Oh…" Jessie's nascent sentence died and she slowly leaned back into her seat looking back at the scene with newfound understanding.

"Wait, something's happening now," Brock muttered under his breath, watching a cone of swirling water rise out of one of the larger holes.

Pikachu watched Piplup's Whirlpool attack increase in size until it towered over them, making the air heavy and dense with moisture. Droplets of water rained over them as the Omastar fired at Piplup's attack, punching out chunks of water from the vortex.

"I can make it bigger," Piplup said as he lifted the aquatic cone that floated between his wings over his head.

"No, that's fine. Just get ready to throw it. Turtwig, let Zel and Buneary know we're ready," Pikachu said.

The grass starter nodded and disappeared into the tunnels. After a few seconds Pikachu gave the water starter the okay. Piplup swing his wings, launching the water tornado towards the Omastar.

More spikes zipped overhead, trying to break apart the liquid twister but it continued on its inexorable path. Pikachu waited until the whirlpool was well out of sight before he gave Pachirisu the signal.

The electric squirrel swung his tail, sending out a river of stars into the sky. While deadly, without a direct line of sight, Pachirisu's Swift attack had no way of homing in on the Omastar. Buizel burst out from his trench with a swirling ball of water between his paws the second he saw the stars in the sky from his hole.

Buizel smiled, noting that the Omastar were completely focused on the stars spinning harmlessly into the air. Others were focused on the impending whirlpool slowly making its way towards them. To further sow confusion, Buneary, Chimchar and Turtwig leapt out from their cover and attacked.

With so many other things to focus on they didn't notice when Buizel launched his Water Pulse until it was too late. The sphere of aquatic aura soared across the battlefield and slammed into the whirlpool to cause a massive watery explosion, drenching the Omastar. Buizel watched Pikachu leap into the air just as he and the others dove back down into their trenches.

Pikachu glanced back, making sure that Piplup was in the tunnels before he went through his part of the plan. The Omastar were soaked with the water from Piplup and Buizel's joint attack — the perfect setting for his follow-up strike.

"I'm going to kill again. I'm going to kill them. If I don't then they'll hurt and kill the others." Those words went through Pikachu's head like a mantra as time began to slow to a crawl once more. Despite his best efforts, doubt began to creep out from the dark corners of his mind and weaken what little resolve he had mustered. "What if the others aren't deep enough in the tunnels?"

One of the Omastar took notice of him now that the others had disappeared, the lowermost horn on its shell glowing white and elongating.

"What if there's water in the tunnels?"

More Omastar were starting to notice him, letting the aura in the bodies build into their horns as they took aim.

"I know I told Pachi to stay but what if he's not immune?"

The first spike speared through the air just as the first sparks burst from Pikachu's cheeks. The electric starter twisted his body, angling himself just enough to dodge the worst of the attack as it passed him and left a crimson line across his stomach. Pikachu could only stare as the other Omastar lined up their next shots.

"Come on. You can do this. It was your plan. All you need to do is finish it. One bolt and it's done. They're depending on you. You told them you could do this. You did it to someone you care about, so why can't you do it to pokémon you don't even know? Pokémon who want to hurt and kill those closest to you! Just do it!"

Pikachu built the aura into his cheeks like every other time he had ever done it. Just like he had done for all the years of his life even before he had known Ash and participated in battles. It was something natural. As effortless as speaking. Yet, the moment he tried to unleash his element, his body seized up while images of Ambipom flitting through his mind.

"I…I can't do it." Pikachu came to the grim realization as he started to feel gravity pull him back to the trench.

A column of fire washed over the Omastar from the side. Water flashed into steam, producing a white veil that hid the gruesome fate of the Omastar. Their screaming was soon drowned out by the roar and crackle of burning gas that soon reduced them to burnt lumps of charcoal. The blaze lasted less than a minute but any of the pokémon there could've sworn that the attack had lasted much longer.

Pikachu landed beside his Sinnohvian counterpart who could only stare at him in confusion.

"What happened? Are they…gone?" Pachirisu asked.

Ash's starter could do nothing but avert his eyes and nod slowly.

"But I didn't see-you didn't do any—I mean it didn't look like you attacked."

The electric mouse shook his head, feeling relieved, exhausted, disgusted, worried and confused all at the same time.

"Who got them? It sounded like fire. You think Chimchar—"

A shadow darted over them, putting both of them on alert until they looked up and saw that it was one of their own.

"It looks like we might have a friend." Staravia's statement was quickly followed by a tremor that shook the earth around them. Pikachu and Pachirisu leapt out of the trench, seeing their teammates already out there with them, unnerved by this new supposed ally. Every tremor seemed to also shake their hope in this new mysterious ally, wondering what they might possibly encounter.

A glossy blue dome surrounded by white spikes was the first sight to peek out beyond the rock face. A single crimson eye and a body covered in stony gray and blue plates soon followed. Upon seeing them the eye widened and a small smile stretched upon its face.

"I did not expect to see all of you again. Roark will be pleased," the Rampardos said, his voice a low rumble. He continued forward, heedless of the blackened corpses of the Omastar he was crushing into soot beneath his feet.

"No way!" Turtwig exhaled and relaxed, earning him a look from Buizel

"You know him?" Buizel asked.

"Rampardos? Yeah I know him."

"Friend?" the water weasel whispered hopefully.

"Wouldn't go that far."

"Rival?" he offered.

"Not really. I met him in a gym battle. Threw him through some boulders," Turtwig replied proudly.

Buizel studied the pokémon's massive bulk before the grass starter's words finally registered. "Wait, you what!? How?"

"By his tail," Turtwig started until he realized that the statement alone wasn't enough to diffuse his teammate' confusion. "With my mouth. S'not like I was gonna do it with my legs." He wiggled the stubby appendage for emphasis.

Buizel couldn't help but feel a newfound respect for the grass turtle, at least until the sound of footsteps got his attention. A red mining helmet poked out from the cover of the stone. Cautious maroon eyes behind black rimmed glasses scanned the field ahead. Pikachu was the first to recognize the scent and called out to their newest guest.

"I can't believe it!" Roark sighed and moved towards the party. "You're Ash's pokémon, right?"

Half the group unanimously cried out in affirmation.

"Are they still here?" he asked.

Pikachu nodded and started bounding over to where the ship was, the other pokémon following his lead.

Roark took a few steps before stopping and reaching for one of his pokéballs on his belt. With a flash, the stony form of his Onix, coiled and ready to strike at the first sign of danger, came into view.

"Set up some Stealth Rocks and go underground. You and Rampardos will hold this area until I get back," Roark ordered. He received gentle nods in response.

Whatever happiness Roark had gained at the chance of seeing other survivors was leeched away when he turned to follow their pokémon. Bodies burnt, eviscerated and mangled in truly disturbing ways littered the ground; the adorable pokémon responsible for the massacre hopped around the corpses, paying them as much mind as they would any of the stones in the quarry.

Roark forced himself to breathe through his mouth as to not gag at the smell of the carnage that still lingered in the air. He forced a leg forward, then another, doing his best to avoid stepping on the blue viscera that glistened in the sunlight. Eventually, he came to a point where moving forward and avoiding the puddles of blood became impossible. Nevertheless, he moved onward, hoping the sand and stony ground would scrub the stains from his boots.

"I should be happy these monsters are gone. But can I really call them 'monsters'? These are the fossils I spoke to. The fossils I helped bring into this world."

A tiny chill ran down his spine the moment he left the battlefield. Dozens of little blue paw prints, of all shapes and sizes, accompanied his own footprints. While the pokémon were now out of sight, he could still follow the trail they had left behind for him.

Follow and reconsider his definition of monsters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: Kabuto are based off of Horshoe crabs have copper based blood as opposed to iron based blood that we have. As a result their blood is the color blue, something that thought should carry over through Kabuto's evolution into Kabutops.
> 
> Fun Fact: For those of you wondering what the marks on Ash, Dawn, and Brock are, they're Lichtenberg scars/figures. These markings can appear at times when someone happens to be fairly close to an area where lightning strikes. Feel free to look it up on google.


	7. You Say Goodbye, and I Say Hello

Thanks to Zarrelion for the help on the chapter.

***

The moment Brock told them that their Pokémon were on their way back, Ash practically flew towards the doors. Dawn beat him to it, wrenching the door aside and hopping out of the aircraft. Ash, while excited to see his Pokémon back, kept his distance from Dawn, unsure of where he now stood with her.

Dawn counted her Pokémon as they came in and sighed with relief when all of them were accounted for. Pikachu brought up the rear but kept his distance from the rest of the group. The moment his gaze connected with Dawn's, his ears dropped along with his tail, knowing now why she was giving him such a reproachful gaze. Ash walked over and tried to pick up his starter only to grab the empty air when Pikachu dodged the attempted embrace and ran back into the quarry.

"Pikachu…what's—" Ash started until he saw another figure enter their midst. Neither of them could quite believe who they were seeing, but couldn't help but let a smile take hold.

"Ash," Roark said, having not seen this particular trainer's face for months but never forgetting everything that he and his friends had done for the town.

"Roark," the trainer called back, Pikachu's aversion to his touch momentarily forgotten.

Dawn's steely gaze melted at the sight of a familiar face and she didn't even bother to fight the smile.

"Brock, come outside! It's Roark!" Dawn cried out, coaxing the breeder's head out of the aircraft's interior.

"Roark!" The breeder chuckled and ran over to his fellow gym leader with Happiny in tow.

"I never thought I would see you guys here of all places," Roark replied.

"We never thought we'd wind up here either," James called out innocently as he exited the aircraft.

Roark immediately tensed up and backed away, his hand hovering over the remaining Pokéball on his belt. "What's going on?" he growled.

"Roark, hold on. Let me explain," Brock interjected.

Roark kept his gaze trained on Jessie and James, his hand still held over his last Pokéball. He was quiet for a few seconds before he nodded, his eyes never leaving the Team Rocket duo.

It wasn't hard to understand Roark's apprehension towards this duo, given their history with him.

"We were on our way to Hearthome when our Pokémon started going crazy. Team Rocket had the same problem which is how we found them in the first place. I treated their Pokémon and they offered to give us a ride to the nearest Pokémon center.

Brock took a breath as he recalled the nightmarish carnage in Hearthome City. "We went to Hearthome and it was overrun with Muk and Grimer, doing basically what the Pokémon here are doing. Jessie and James agreed to take us to Twinleaf; we were on our way there until an Aerodactyl attacked us and forced us to land."

"The Aerodactyl's last attack punched a hole in the fuel line. I'm repairing it right now and we can be out of here within the hour," James added, heading over to the back of the aircraft to do just that.

Everything inside Brock screamed at him to extend the invitation to Roark, but he knew it wasn't his offer to make.

"He can come with us…" Jessie announced aloud, as if reading his mind. "…But only if it's just him," she added.

"Jessie" Ash spoke up. "Couldn't we try and find some survivors?"

The Team Rocket operative whirled on the boy, her eyes like smoldering coals as she glared at him. "This—" she jabbed her finger at the tilt-rotor aircraft "— is not a cruise ship! Nor is it a rescue helicopter! We agreed to take you and your twerp friend to the coast and you two to Kanto. We're doing it because it's on the way and not entirely inconvenient. We did not agree to save every person we see on the way. One more person won't affect the ship, but if we start bringing more people and those people want us to bring even more people…then where does it end? We don't have unlimited space or fuel.

"As soon as James is done with the repairs, we're out of here. If you think you can go out there, play hero, and make it back here in time before we leave then be my guest. This ship is Team Rocket property and we are the only people that know how to fly it safely. You don't like our rules, Oreburgh is that way," Jessie concluded, thrusting her finger beyond the quarry.

No one said anything for a while — not even Ash — as Jessie stomped back into the cockpit. Brock watched Ash's shoulders slump in defeat, knowing that any rebuttal he offered would end the same as the last time.

Roark's arms hung lifelessly at his sides, the Pokéball on his belt now forgotten.

"Roark…I—" Brock began.

"—I…I just need some time to…" Roark's voice trailed off as he walked away and disappeared into the quarry. It was one thing for an outsider to want to save the people of a city; it was another thing entirely for that city's gym leader. Ash moved to follow him until he felt Brock's grip on his shoulder and turned to see him shake his head slowly.

"We're not gonna just leave him here, are we?" Ash asked.

"We can't force him to come with us. If he wants to stay, then we have to respect that," Brock replied.

"So you're fine with leaving him to…" Ash tried but couldn't finish the sentence…not at least with Dawn still around.

"Ash, this is his home. As a gym leader, you become an important part of the community. Every place is different, but for some towns or cities that title can be loaded with more responsibilities than you'd expect. Some gym leaders can double as mayors or some other form of community leader. You become responsible for more than just battling trainers who are trying to get a badge. Leaving all of that behind isn't something that can be done easily. Especially if it's also where you call home and where you have... family."

Ash twisted out of Brock's reach and stormed past him towards the aircraft. Brock stood by and watched, noticing that something — besides all the obvious issues — about Ash felt off. It took Brock a few seconds to realize what was bothering him. But it wasn't until he looked at Dawn heading back as well that the realization came to him.

"Where's Pikachu?"

***

"What was that?!" Pikachu hissed mentally, his fingers flexing in and out of a fist. Pikachu's' focus was on the stone wall a little ways off from the battlefield and the aircraft. An "X", carved into the rock from his Iron Tail, marked the spot where he was aiming for.

Despite all his efforts, Pikachu quickly found that he couldn't produce an electrical attack. He had tried unleashing it through anger, through fear and even through happiness. But it was all for naught; not a single spark had left his cheeks. All his other abilities, like making his tail as hard as iron or moving with a sudden burst of speed, were left intact. Anything regarding his natural element felt impossible to produce.

"What are you doing here?"

Pikachu flinched at the unexpected voice and spun around to find Buneary moving towards him. He was about to tell her to stay away, that being near him was dangerous, until he remembered that the "X" he had made remained unmarred. She was in no danger as long as his lightning was gone. But then again, so were his enemies.

"Nothing, actually," Pikachu said with a sigh.

"Why did you leave?" Buneary asked.

"I needed to try something."

Buneary eyed the marking on the wall behind Pikachu. "Did you find what you needed? Am I intruding?"

"No. You're fine," Pikachu added quickly as he scratched the fur behind his ear. "How did you find me?"

"You didn't exactly leave the quarry," Buneary said with a snort, "I also happen to be very familiar with your scent."

Pikachu wasn't sure if he should be flattered or concerned about the last statement. Buneary had never been very subtle with her attraction to him. Everyone knew it but said nothing as this was something between the two of them.

"Are Ash and the others looking for me?" he asked.

"Your trainer seems upset about something else and hasn't noticed that you're gone. Your teammates are gloating about the last battle."

"Gloating?"

The bunny nodded. "Quite a few of them are talking about how they feel more powerful than usual. How easy the last battle was. It doesn't seem like any of them took any damage, even when we were pinned by the Omastar."

"Bun, we killed them." Pikachu's tone was serious and cold. "When we were done, they didn't even look like a Pokémon any more."

"They were attacking us. It was our lives and the lives of Dawn and the others versus theirs. If I had to I would do it again and as many times as I would need to. For Dawn, you, and my team," Buneary replied, her eyes holding an intensity that almost frightened the electric mouse. "Isn't it the same for you? I know you would do anything for Ash."

"I would, it's just…" Pikachu trailed off and looked at the carving on the quarry wall.

"It's what? What's wrong?"

Pikachu sighed. "Can you keep a secret?"

Buneary nodded rapidly, clasping her paws together so tightly Pikachu could've sworn that they had fused.

"I'm out here because…I…I can't…I was trying to use my electric attacks and I can't do it. I can't get a single bolt out of my body."

Buneary threw him a quizzical look. "But your plan? The Omastar?"

"I was lucky. Roark's Rampardos attacked them in my stead. When it was my time to actually hit them, I…I couldn't do it. Even when they fired spikes at me, even when I thought of what they might do to all of you, I wasn't able to. If it weren't for Rampardos…I don't think I would've come out of that alive." Pikachu motioned to the streak of reddish fur along his midsection where one of the spikes had grazed him.

Her paw reached out to him but stopped just short and pulled away. "Does it hurt?"

"It just looks bad but I think it's all healed now," he replied back, hoping to assuage her concerns. "Please don't let the others know about this yet."

Buneary's gaze lifted from his wounds and up to his eyes, giving him a quiet nod. "I promise I won't say anything to the others but you should let them know at some point. They still think you're the one that set the Omastar on fire. Could it be that you're out of electricity? I don't remember much from last night but I do remember you releasing a lot of power. Maybe Pach could recharge you?"

"I don't feel like I'm out. I can still feel it there…I just can't reach it. Every time I try I see Ambi and…" Pikachu trailed off.

A thoughtful look crossed Buneary's face as she waited to see if Pikachu was going to continue. When he didn't she grabbed his paw and gave a gentle tug as she started walking back to the aircraft.

"I can't say that I knew Ambi for as long and as well as you," she said. "But I'd like to think that she wouldn't want this horrible accident to get in the way of your safety. I won't tell you to get over it. That's going to take time."

"That's something we don't have!" Pikachu exclaimed. "What if we get attacked again and we lose someone else because I couldn't end the battle with one of my bolts?"

Her grip on his paw tightend. "I'll just have to work harder then…for the both of us. I will not let something like that happen again. Let's head back before they start getting worried about us."

Pikachu gave no reply and obeyed. As they walked Pikachu couldn't help but notice that Buneary moved with a small but definite spring in her step. He couldn't imagine what she could possibly be happy about until her paw squeezed his.

"Having her around is nice. I mean, she's always been like this around me, but…" A darker thought quickly entered his mind. "Would that change if she knew I couldn't return those feelings? Do I even like her that way?" Ash's starter gave a quick covert scan from the tops of her ears to her toes. Certainly the idea of being more intimate with her had crossed his mind. Pikachu was just careful, not blind.

The fact that she wasn't a female Pikachu wasn't the factor that dissuaded him. What did dissuade him was the lack of privacy and time. Pikachu spent most of his waking hours with Ash. Likewise, Buneary was kept in the confines of her Pokéball unless battles or coordinating practice came up.

If he was honest with himself the reason he hadn't really tried anything with her was actually because of Dawn. To deepen their relationship beyond friendship and then to have Ash and Dawn part ways as their paths took them to different parts of the world didn't appeal to him. He also wasn't sure what mating was like among her kind. Was it something of a lifelong commitment or something more open-ended?

Ultimately Pikachu hadn't given those types of relationships much thought. There was always the next battle; the next gym and league. Once Ash became a Pokémon master they could settle down somewhere and he could consider that type of thing. With these new developments, Pikachu couldn't help but wonder whether battles would even be possible for him anymore.

"There's nothing I can do about that now. She's right, I just need to wait and see what happens. Hopefully things can go back to normal again." Pikachu's thoughts were interrupted by the sobering realization that the hopes of that happening were next to impossible. Even if he could access his electricity again and it was normal instead of lethal, Ambipom would still be gone.

"We're here," Buneary said, having guessed he was lost in his own thoughts. Pikachu looked up and noticed that she was right. He saw the aircraft and noted the distinct scents of their teammates and human companions.

"I guess this is where we split. I don't think your team is ready to see me yet," Pikachu said as he pulled his paw away from Buneary's. While subtle, Buneary seemed to deflate at the lack of contact

"They've gone from being angry at you to being confused as to how they should feel," she said.

"I guess I should consider it an improvement. Hopefully they'll come around."

"Oh, they will," Buneary said beneath her breath.

"I'm gonna go check on Ash and make sure he's okay. You gonna be all right?"

"Yeah—" she exhaled "—Go ahead and make sure he's okay."

"Thanks, Bun," he said as he bounded towards the aircraft.

***

Roark returned well before James finished making the repairs to Giovanni's personal transport. The dust that caked his face was broken by streaks of clean skin that trailed from his bloodshot eyes. Blood dripped past his trembling fingertips as he walked, his ankles and forearms covered with the white dust from the quarry. Without a word, he slipped into the aircraft and sat down, staring blankly into his lap until James entered the interior. With the final call everyone returned their Pokémon back to their Pokéballs and boarded the aircraft.

True to their word, Team Rocket started the engines moments after everyone was seated. The propellers whirred to life, scattering the sand and stones as the tilt-rotor took off. Throughout the entire ascent Roark had moved by the window, remaining inert as he watched Oreburgh grow more and more distant as the seconds passed.

No one moved to comfort him, knowing that there was nothing they could say. Their flight went on in relative silence, the roar of the rotor blades taking the place of conversation. Jessie, James, and Meowth stayed in the cockpit and did their best to stay there. Hours passed and the sun began to make its descent into the ever distant horizon.

In such a small ship there was little to no privacy. The roaring of the rotors and the rushing wind eliminated any possibility for trying to speak in a whisper. Any conversation that took place would have everyone — save the Rocket trio — as an audience. As such, Ash kept his interactions with Pikachu subtle and brief. Pikachu didn't take it personally and even joined Ash whenever his eyes would dart over to Dawn's corner to see if she noticed them.

Both of them understood that their interactions were like salt in Dawn's wounds. On one hand, Ash had to be empathetic to Dawn's feelings about the loss of their shared Pokémon. On the other, Ash refused to chastise Pikachu for what was clearly an accident.

"You know what happened then?" Ash whispered amidst the cacophonous noise. The whisper was still easily picked up by Pikachu's sensitive hearing. His starter nodded and glanced briefly in Dawn's direction before his eyes, ears and tail lowered to the floor. Ash reached out and gently scratched the back of Pikachu's shoulder and neck, sending him a look of understanding.

Unbeknownst to them Brock watched the entire thing from his seat. As far as the others knew, he was asleep — and had been that way only an hour after takeoff. From his corner of the ship he could keep an eye on everyone with no one being the wiser thanks to the shape of his eyes. Even after all these years it still fascinated him to see the depth of their understanding of one another without the need for words.

"It's not your fault," Ash's eyes seemed to say.

Pikachu's ears lifted slightly before dropping once more with the slight shake of his head.

"It is."

Ash's thumb moved back and forth across his starter's fur.

"It's gonna be okay."

A yellow eyebrow arched somewhat.

"You sure?"

A slight nod and the flash of his signature smile.

"Yeah."

Pikachu gave his own smile and lifted his ears and tail before shifting his gaze briefly to the right and reconnecting his gaze to Ash.

"What about her?"

Ash glanced at Dawn for a few seconds and released a breath through his nose.

"I'll figure something out."

Pikachu nodded and moved away, leaving Ash to his thoughts.

Brock watched with interest as Ash's brow furrowed and he bit the inside of his cheek. One hand cradled his chin; the other cradled his elbow as he sat cross-legged in his corner of the room. For once, Ash was actually planning out a slow and deliberate approach to broaching the topic with Dawn as opposed to his usual strategy of tackling his obstacles into submission. Brock didn't envy his friend's position, seeing how it was like maneuvering a verbal minefield.

Dawn was in a delicate state. The mere mention of certain words like Ambipom or Pikachu could radically change her feelings during the conversation. The challenge was in the arrangement of the words he said to her. And most importantly the tone of his voice when he said certain words. Ash's words could be the most sincere they had ever been in his life. But if Dawn didn't feel it, it could have the completely opposite effect.

While Brock's track record with the ladies wasn't the greatest, he liked to think of himself as being pretty knowledgeable about women and their inner workings. That wasn't to say that he knew everything there was to know about girls. His extensive knowledge tended to be thrown out the window and traded for love goggles whenever an attractive woman came his way. Yet when he wasn't drooling over them up close, he studied them from a distance and learned certain signs. Years of traveling with Misty had taught him a lot of things that watching his little sisters grow up in their formative years had not. Thinking about the girls in his life made him hope all the more that he was wrong about his worries.

"We thought it was just a local issue, and now it's regional! What are we gonna do if it's global? I hope I'm wrong, but Giovanni's recall of all of Team Rocket can't just be a coincidence. Or maybe, if he started it, then Kanto is being spared all this slaughter and destruction. It's awful, but I can't help but hope that the rest of the world is crazy and Kanto was spared."

***

The skies were on the cusp of twilight by the time they reached Twinleaf Town. A mountain range from all sides crowned by the horizon — save the route to Sandgem — with the wide expanse of forest nestled at its base. It was a small town; far enough away from suburbia to enjoy the rural feel of the outdoors. Brock had expected another scene of chaos but was pleasantly surprised to see Twinleaf remained calm and scenic.

Ash couldn't help but feel a wave of relief at the sight of it all. If Dawn's hometown was safe, then it was possible that Pallet Town was just as untouched by the horrors he'd seen in the rest of the region. Dawn had slipped into the cockpit earlier and described her home to the Rocket trio so that they knew where to land. Brock took some small comfort in the lights that filtered out of the windows of each house.

That all seemed to shatter when Dawn audibly gasped and clamped her hand over her mouth, tears already beginning to flow over her fingers. It wasn't until they moved to the other windows that they understood. While the second floor remained untouched, several holes had been punched through one of the rooms on the second floor. Brock quickly moved in and embraced Dawn from behind.

Hot red anger surged through his veins, despair and helplessness leaving him rigid where he stood. "She doesn't need this right now," was all that came to his mind, the phrase repeating itself over and over in his head.

Johanna's bed of exotic lilies rippled beneath the walls of wind sent by the aircraft as it maneuvered around the two-story house. In the quiet pastoral town, the sound of their aircraft did not go unnoticed; several people left their homes to see what all the noise was about, Johanna included. The moment the wheels touched soil, Dawn rushed over to the door and practically tried to tear it off its hinges.

Ash blinked and nearly missed Dawn as she closed the gap between her and her mother with a mad dash. Brock was worried that Dawn might fall onto her face from the way she ran, but she managed to keep her balance and slowed down just enough to not tackle Johanna to the ground. No one could hear the girl's cries beneath the roar of the spinning rotor blades until they fully started to die down.

Watching them embrace was equal parts touching and heart-wrenching at the same time when they thought of their own mothers.

"We're gonna make sure dis ting's ready ta fly again, so go on witout us," Meowth said through the holes in the door to the cockpit. Brock hopped out without much prompting, wanting nothing more than to feel the sweet earth beneath his feet after so many hours in the air.

Johanna lifted her gaze from her daughter's head to meet Brock and Ash with a searching look that asked them why her daughter was crying her eyes out. Her eyes shifted to see Roark lingering behind them but keeping his distance.

"Let's talk inside."

***

Despite having been invited into their home, Ash and the others couldn't help but feel like they were intruding. Ash and Roark quietly sat across from each other at the dining table while Brock stood behind them and paced before the cabinets, Happiny quietly cradled in his arms. Half an hour had gone by since Johanna had told them to make themselves at home and disappeared into the second floor to be with her daughter.

Occasionally her cries made their way down the stairs and into their area, sounding louder in the void of their conversation. Roark twitched and winced with every cry, his eyes darting towards the windows and the shadows in the room. A good part of Roark was still back in his city, where every scream had meant the end of someone's life and the danger of being close to the one that took it. Even though they were hundreds of miles away from the city; even though everything for several miles looked peaceful and friendly, the things he had gone through would continue to haunt him for the rest of his life.

"Brock, what're you doing?" Ash asked, hoping some semblance of conversation would dampen some of the noise.

"Dawn's mother said to make ourselves at home and I was thinking we should grab something to eat since he haven't really had anything all day," he replied.

"I'm not really hungry, Brock."

"Neither am I, but we should still eat something. But I just don't feel right rifling through her cabinets. I don't even know if she has any extra food she can spare."

Roark abruptly pushed himself from the table and started making his way towards the door.

"Roark, where are you going?" Ash called out as he got out of his seat to follow.

"I need to be outside." Roark then carefully shut the door behind him.

"Ash, stay here in case Dawn's mom comes down. I just wanna check on him and make sure he's gonna be okay. I won't be long," Brock said as he moved from his position by the cabinets.

Ash was going to argue but stopped himself and nodded, sitting back down in the chair.

Brock closed the door behind him just as carefully as Roark did, but in the pervading silence that hung over the living room he might as well have slammed it.

Roark wasn't far from the house, standing at the edge of Johanna's flower gardens and reaching for his belt.

"What—" Brock began, pausing for an instant before he kept going.

"What's wrong? You know exactly what's wrong? That's the dumbest question you can ask him right now. Asking him what can you do to help would be better question. Except you already know the answer to that. Nothing. Nothing I say to him will make what he's gone through any easier. Was I wrong to follow him out here? Should I leave him alone?" Brock's gaze drifted lower and noted where Roark's fingers were.

"—are you doing?" Brock finished, noting how Roark's hand froze just above his Pokéballs.

"I'm bringing Onix out so that he can set up some Stealth Rocks around Dawn's house," Roark replied.

"Why?"

Roark whipped around so violently that Brock stepped away from him despite there being several feet between them. So many emotions fought for dominance on Roark's face, with disbelief and rage being the most prominent.

"Why?!" Roark roared. "Because they are still out there!" Oreburgh's gym leader thrust a shaking finger towards the world around the setting sun.

"Roark, the prehistoric Pokémon you fought are miles away from here I don't think they would've fo—"

"I'm not talking about those Pokémon! I'm talking about the ones that live in the woods, in the mountains all around us." The Oreburgh gym leader swept his arms out as if to encompass the whole area.

"Roark, I don't think the Pokémon here wo—"

"—And I didn't think my mother would be dead today!" Roark's body shuddered with rage.

The revelation slammed into Brock, stripping the warmth from his bones and stealing the last words from his thoughts. Happiny's eyes were starting to brim with tears until Brock rocked her gently and wiped some away with his free hand. "Roark…I'm so…I didn't know…"

"Don't tell me that the Pokémon of this area won't try to do the same. I thought it was just my city, but then you and your friends come in and tell me that you saw the same thing happen to Hearthome. That's practically the center of Sinnoh and Oreburgh is near the coast, so if my city felt whatever is happening to the region, then what's to stop it happening here?"

"Rural areas like this don't have powerful Pokémon. A lot of the ones that live in this area are probably timi—"

"They already outnumber us. And it takes only one of them to realize that they are more powerful than us." Roark looked at the surrounding forests and mountains. Forests and mountains that once seemed so scenic, now held an ominous aura.

"How can you be sure they're out for blood? We've done nothing to provoke them!" Brock countered.

"You didn't see what I saw in Oreburgh, Brock. The Kabutops that came after you spent hours—" Roark winced and shuddered as the flood of grisly images came flooding back "—gutting every person they could find. A few of them didn't even eat those they killed and that's not even the worse part. I thought about it while we were flying and the more I thought about it, the worse this whole situation seems. They sent soldiers to Oreburgh, Brock."

The edge of mania started to creep into Roark's tone, sending shivers through Brock and Happiny as they heard the gym leader go on. "A small team of soldiers and a tank and all of it…all of it was torn to shreds. Reinforcements never showed. I first thought you guys were the reinforcements but the more I thought about it the more one thing they said to me stood out. I commented on the fact that so few had come and they told me that they were all the Sinnohvian National Guard could spare."

Brock felt like his stomach had plummeted down to his feet and a cold hard stone had taken its place.

"I kept thinking about what that meant and the only thing that makes sense to me is that the National Guard is spread too thin," Roark continued, his voice wavering as he fought to keep from having a full breakdown in front of Brock. "Why would that be, unless Hearthome and Oreburgh aren't only places affected, and while this place is safe for now, that doesn't mean that Pokémon from those places won't eventually come here. The prehistoric Pokémon in Oreburgh will eventually leave when they realize that there aren't enough resources to sustain them. If the soldiers they sent to contain the situation indicate anything, it's that things do not look good for us." Roark punctuated the end of his sentence by releasing his Onix with a flash. Brock said nothing as the order to set up the hazards was made.

"What comes after this?" Brock asked quietly.

"What are you talking about?"

"Ash and I are going over to Kanto with Team Rocket. Dawn's probably going to stay here with her mom. You could come with us if you wanted."

Roark said nothing for a few seconds until he turned his gaze towards the northern mountain range. "I'll make my way over to Canalave."

"Do you have family there?" Brock's tone was hopeful until Roark gave a derisive snort at the comment.

"If you can call him that."

"I know what that's like," Brock spoke gently, surprised to find that beyond being a rock gym leader of their region, they shared a connection in the way of having good-for-nothing fathers. It wasn't the best way to connect with someone but it was something they could empathize with one another about. At least that's what Brock had thought.

The result was akin to kicking a Primeape — a volcanic explosion of sound and fury. "Oh do you now!? What could you possibly know about me? How could your life possibly compare to mine!? Did you work your ass off in the quarry and in the mines for years!? Did your dad leave you and your mother to go gallivanting for fossils on an island without so much as a hug or proper goodbye!? How could your struggles even possibly relate to mine!?" Roark had closed in on Brock, punctuating each sentence with a harsh jab to his chest just above Happiny with his finger. Brock kept his stare fixed on Roark; if he registered the physical contact he didn't show it. Slowly, Brock kneeled down and placed Happiny on the floor, gently urging her to keep her distance from him. By the time Brock stood back up Roark couldn't help but feel like the air had gotten heavier.

"Do you have siblings?" Brock asked. The tone was bitter-cold, almost menacing. And it caused Roark's anger to melt away.

"Let's say you have some," Brock continued, "Nine in fact. Which is a lot of kids as far as anyone's concerned, but that's okay because your father and mother who love each other are there. Until your father decides to leave, because he decided he could go be a great Pokémon trainer.

"Except he doesn't, he fails and refuses to come home because he's ashamed. Instead, he sells overpriced rocks to ignorant tourists on the outskirts of the city where you live.

"So your dad's not around, which is okay because your mom's there, right? Except she doesn't cook and it isn't long before your mother realizes that being a domestic housewife isn't as fun as exploring the rest of the world. So then she goes off on her adventure. Now you have nine mouths to feed. So you start having to learn things that your parents could never be bothered to teach you. You cook because otherwise you and your siblings will starve. You clean and learn basic healthcare because you literally can't afford medicine if they get sick. You learn to knit and sew because your siblings are growing up and they either tear or can't fit into their clothes. You can't afford to get them new clothes. Not while you're feeding them, keeping the lights on and keeping a roof over their heads."

Brock's hands flashed forward and grabbed Roark's undershirt. Roark's powerful muscles earned through years of hard labor in the quarries and mines of Oreburgh proved unable to pull Brock's hands away from him. His Onix moved in to intervene until he felt something tug on his tail before his body lurched back across the grassy field. The ground quickly rose up to meet him as a sudden pressure at the top of his head forced him to the earth.

Happiny's incredible feat of strength came as no surprise to Brock, but he was certain that the stone snake was completely thrown off guard.

Brock's gaze drilled into Roark's soul. "Juggling your role as a gym leader and taking care of them takes up the entirety of your life. You don't have time to do anything else. None of your other siblings are old enough to get their first starter.

"So when one of your parents eventually comes back, you bury every hateful word and murderous urge you've let fester in his absence because you're afraid of giving him any reason to run away again. You take his attempts at trying to assimilate back into your life in stride. He finally decides to start acting like a parent and you're finally free to go and see the world and pursue all the dreams you've ever wanted.

"For a while, your freedom is more important than any responsibilities that you had before, but it starts to eat at you. Every time you make a meal; every time you flirt with a girl; there's always that fear in the back of your mind of how you've left your siblings — the people you love more than anyone in this world — in terrible hands."

Roark began to feel his feet lift off the ground; Brock's tone was icy-calm but deathly serious. The incoming stony tail didn't seem to register as a threat to Brock's Happiny as she deflected it with her free arm and held it down. Roark's Onix began to struggle until he felt his stony hide begin to crack beneath the pressure of her hold.

And then, the tense atmosphere between the two dissipated slightly. "You're right, Roark. My struggles don't compare to yours. Suffering isn't a contest so I won't say whose life was harder." Brock released Roark back onto his feet. The miner stumbled back, checking how stretched his shirt had become before looking back at the breeder.

Whatever anger he'd once held had now simmered. A curt nod from Brock signaled Happiny to release her captive. Roark's Onix rolled away and kept his distance, having learned to not to underestimate the deceptively strong baby Pokémon.

"So I guess you do know what it's like. You'd understand then why I need to make it to Canalave and find him. I want him to know about mom; I need him to feel miserable about what he did to us. It feels like my anger's been the only thing that's kept me from breaking down. It's all that's kept me sane," Roark replied.

"I think you have every right to want that and I understand now why it was so hard for you to leave," Brock added.

Roark's only reply was a nod of his head.

"It made me feel like I was no different than my dad. Abandoning my mother and my job and my city.

"I can't really speak for Roxanne, but the thing about being a rock-type — and it goes for gym leaders of that element too — is shrugging off everything the world throws at us. We're pressured this much because we can take it," Brock said.

He extended his fist. Roark gave a weak smile and bumped fists with him in the classic masculine sign of reconciliation and camaraderie.

"So are you gonna question my actions?" Roark asked.

"No, you made your point. Here's hoping we won't need them tonight. Johanna might be down any minute so I'll be inside." Brock bent down to pick up Happiny before making his way up the steps to the porch.

"Good luck," Roark muttered, not envying Brock's position and staring at the ring of stone spikes that slowly circled around the house.

***

The sounds of growls filled the room. Not that it bothered the Rocket trio as they were intimately familiar with the source of the noise.

"Meowth, go see if they can spare any food!" Jessie ordered.

"Why me?" Meowth whined.

"We don't know what the twerpette has told her mother about us. You're a Pokémon; she might be more lenient on you than us." Jessie went back to inspecting another part of the bulkhead.

"Fine." Meowth's stomach grumbled as if in displeasure of the task he had been given. James pulled the sliding door open for him and closed it as he hopped out. Meowth's gaze went to the moon, hoping that Meowsie wasn't being affected by whatever was happening to the Pokémon in Sinnoh. In the midst of his stargazing Meowth began to notice something moving across the sky.

A halo of stones circled around the house. The stones floated lazily beneath the starry night sky. Meowth gulped and took his first hesitant steps towards the house. His muscles tensed as he prepared to dodge the lithic spears should they home in on him. As the seconds and steps passed, Meowth decided that the stones weren't targeting him and were just a precaution for something else.

Muffled voices filtered through the door as Meowth made his way up the steps and onto the porch. From a distance Meowth could see the gym leader they had picked up, issuing orders to his Pokémon, answering one of Meowth's earlier questions. He was about to reach for the doorknob when he felt something approach him from both sides.

"Who might you be?" Glameow purred, her eyes looking him up and down.

"We didn't see you with the others," Umbreon added from behind him, the golden rings on her dark fur glowing brightly in the darkness.

"I-I'm wit da guys on da ship," Meowth stammered back, the dark Eeveelution's rings evoking a primal fear within him.

"I can't tell if he's just nervous or lying," Umbreon replied.

"Probably the first one. You know your rings tend to have that effect." Glameow smirked and laid down into a resting position. Umbreon took the hint and nodded, letting the golden glow dim into a soft yellow but keeping her crimson gaze set on the talking cat.

"Why're you standing and speaking like that?"

"I-I wanted ta walk an' talk like a human so I taught myself how," Meowth replied, thinking it best to be as honest as possible.

"Let's not hurt this one too bad, Umbri. I think he's amusing." Glameow circled Mewoth as if he were little more than a fancy sculpture.

"What do you want?" Umbreon demanded.

"We were gettin' hungry and well…wanted ta know if dere was grub ta spare," Meowth said.

"Are you or your companions friends with Johanna's daughter?" Glameow's tail had started swishing back and forth.

"I wouldn' say we're friends exactly," Meowth replied, pausing to consider his next words carefully.

"What would you say they are then?" Umbreon prompted a little more forcefully than Glameow would've liked.

"We gave dem a ride ta dis place before we left ta da Kanto Region,"

"See Umbri, be nice. He's a foreigner," Glameow chided, lightly whipping her tail about to tickle Meowth's chin.

"Do you know anything about what's happening? What happened to us?" the Moonlight Pokémon asked, her sharp tone diminished somewhat.

"Not much. We went crazy an' attacked everyting'. Did any of you hear a voice in your head when all of dat was happenin'?" Meowth asked.

Glameow's smile dissolved in an instant and her eyes locked with Umbreon's own for a few seconds.

"We also heard a voice," Umbreon said. Her voice noticeably dulled as she spoke.

"But only bits and pieces" Glameow added.

The next few minutes were spent comparing the words they had heard. Little of the mysterious message was revealed and what they had learned failed to help clarify what exactly was being told to them. Soon, the porch became quiet, save for the muffled voices of Johanna and Brock.

"If you need food, now's probably not the best time." Glameow was the first to break the silence.

"Would you mind waiting a minute?" Umbreon asked.

Meowth's growling stomach answered before he could. Glameow stifled a giggle while Umbreon sighed.

"Umbri? Doesn't Cara have a berry patch on the side of her house?" Glameow said.

"She does, but I don't think she would appreciate anyone taking those," Umbreon replied.

"But Umbri look at him," she whined playfully.

Umbreon turned her crimson stare on the other cat. "Yes?"

"I said look, not glare! He's probably starving, and his friends brought Dawn back safely."

Umbreon sighed. "If anyone asks, I heard and saw nothing." She looked to the stars she could see past the porch…and "accidentally" fail to see Meowth raiding Cara's berry patch.

Glameow grinned impishly and motioned towards the home of Johanna's neighbor with her head. Meowth took the hint and started walking. Once he was far enough away, Umbreon made her way back to her old coordinating partner, who was perched onto the porch railing for a better view.

"Glam, you're not actually into him, right?" Umbreon asked, finding her own comfortable position on the wooden railing.

"My my, is someone worried for little old me?"

Umbreon snorted. "Hardly. I figured your standards were higher, but I guess it's been a while since you've seen another cat type."

Glameow's only response was a pout before she looked away with a scoff and pretended to feel horribly wounded. "I just thought if we were going to interrogate him I could play good cat and you bad cat."

"You know I'm not actually a—"

"Oh hush!" Glameow gently bopped Umbreon's head with her tail. "Look at him go." She motioned with her corkscrew tail towards Meowth, who was greedily swiping the berries and piling them onto his arm.

"He could've been there faster if he were moving on all four legs."

"Being on two legs does seem to have its advantages," Glameow said, noticing how Meowth was able to carry several berries at the same time.

"It's unnatural if you ask m—"

"Hmm?" Glameow immediately noticed her partner's sudden silence. "What is it?"

"He's not alone."

***

Meowth had just finished helping himself to the bountiful harvest of oran berries when the stone spikes flew past his shoulder. The angry hisses from behind him nearly made him wet himself from fear. All the berries he'd collected would've fallen out of his paws had the bands of silk that wrapped around him not bound them to his body. His attempts at screams were muffled by adhesive string that had already sealed his lips shut. The ground beneath him became a green blur; Johanna's house growing smaller within seconds until the cover of the woods cast everything he saw into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: Brock's Happiny has been shown to have a ridiculous amount of strength. She can carry Ash's Grotle with relative ease (practically skipping) throughout a city for an extended period of time...with one arm (Episode: Jumping Rocket Ship). The average Grotle weigh around 213.8lbs whereas your average Onix weighs around around 463lbs which isn't a huge leap from Grotle's. Brock's Happiny has also demonstrated that it can pulverize boulders with a Pound attack as well as throw Brock and someone of Dawn's body mass several meters through the air (Episode: Tanks for the Memories).


	8. Fly You Fools

Thanks to Zarrelion for the help on the chapter.

***

The cocoon around him was thick enough that all sensation was blocked out from Meowth as he was dragged through the forest. Even with his enhanced night vision, the speed at which he was traveling rendered the surroundings as little more than an indistinct smear. One thing he did notice was that webs began to coat the branches, then the trees and finally, the ground itself.

Meowth's heart rate increased its already frantic tempo as he saw that he was not the only one in the woods. Dozens of cocoons hung from the branches on silken lines. Some of the cocoons were smaller than his silken prison; others were about his size and then there were even a few that were about as large as Jessie and James.

The more he watched the more he noticed that all the cocoons had one thing in common. The bodies were completely wrapped, save for an open section where a nose or a snout poked out. Some of the cocoons were little more than full-body casts, swaying gently in the air as the captive within struggled feebly against the restraints.

"Dere keepin' us alive." He shivered at the thought, afraid to delve deeper into the answer to that question. It was then he became acutely aware that he was slowing down and soon, it was revealed why.

Several Ariados scuttled around him. All Meowth could do was listen.

"What happened to you?" one of the Ariados asked.

"Just when I was about to get this little morsel, a fucking rock comes and hits me!" his captor growled. All Meowth could see was a tapestry of webs.

"Were you seen?" another demanded.

"I don't think so." There was a clear note of uncertainty in his captor's voice.

"Kailob's gonna be pissed," another Ariados said.

"Kailob ain't gonna know cause none of you are gonna tell him!" his captor snarled.

"Oh yeah? What's in it for me?"

"My next two catches can be yours."

"And how do I know you won't just catch something small?"

"There's only so much you can drain in a day. Being greedy is pointless in the long run," a female Ariados interjected.

"It's not just for me, I got mouths to feed. So whaddya say Kharzouz? Wanna hand over that little morsel you have over there and knock one off your debt?"

Meowth felt Kharzouz move in front him as if to protect him; the irony of the situation was not lost on him. "This one's not for trade. I want to let my meal know how I feel about getting hurt just to get him."

Those words pushed Meowth's bladder past the breaking point. He whimpered as his bladder gave way. The shame of the warm wetness soaking into his fur was overshadowed by the hope that his action had rendered him too disgusting to eat.

If Kharzouz noticed Meowth's accident, he wasn't bothered or didn't care.

"And you're sure that no one saw you?" another Ariados asked.

"Yes, Ilzbe." Kharzouz groaned. "And let's say I was seen. What would it matter? Even if the humans told the others here, where could they go? The woods? We've already placed our webs there and I'd love to see how far they make it through the woods in the night. They can't tell the humans north of here because we've already taken all of them."

Meowth's eyes widened at the news. The idea that all of Sandgem Town was taken by these Pokémon seemed hard to believe at first…but then he saw the dozens of humanoid cocoons that adorned the canopy above him.

"While that might be true, remember that Kailob said it'll be harder to catch the humans if they know about us. They might scatter and we will waste our strength and time trying to get all of them or they'll join forces to make our life even more difficult. That's why we waited while they were asleep and separated! Our strength isn't in offense; it's in numbers and stealth!

"Even with all eighty of us working together, if we're out of the cover of trees and darkness, then all it takes is a few creatures that are stronger than us to beat us! There's no telling if any of the humans have their own creatures that are powerful enough to do that. Need I remind you of the tiny blue bird creature that beat you months ago?" Ilzbe said.

"I do not need a reminder! What I need is to feed!" Kharzouz turned to face his latest catch. Drool oozed off his jittering mandibles and onto the silk as he laid eyes on the morsel. While Meowth couldn't feel any of the saliva through the silk, the sight alone was enough to make his vision start to swim.

"Kailob said we would distribute our catches amon—"

"Kailob this! Kailob that! I grow tired of hearing about Kailob! If you're so in love with him why don't you go mate with him!" Kharzouz snapped. "Let me at least enjoy this one so that I might forget my pain. There's another two humans where I caught this one; they're fat and potentially juicy. If we don't move fast the rest of the swarm will be here and make it harder to get food for ourselves, so get a move on!"

The promise of more food dissolved whatever arguments were brewing among the Ariados. Meowth heard them scuttle away and much to his surprise, part of him wanted them to stay. Thoughts of Jessie and James flooded his mind. Memories of all the good times they had together and how all of would be gone soon became his only thoughts. Then, much as he and his team had had done for years after every failure to catch Pikachu; he pushed all thoughts of negativity to the back of his mind and focused his energies on a single goal: getting out of the cocoon.

One of his paws was pressed against his chest and held there by the silk, but his other paw had been bound to his side and faced away from his body. A simple flex of his wrist unsheathed his claws which managed to poke through the material.

The forest began to move again as his captor continued dragging him to another part of the forest. He worked his claws frantically through the silk while the Ariados's focus was elsewhere. Meowth quickly learned that his efforts were being wasted when the pliable silk only stretched as he moved his paw back and forth. Kharzouz was already starting to slow down by the time Meowth switched to the new tactic of repeatedly retracting his claws in and out of his bindings. From where he lay he couldn't help but notice that the amount of webs hanging from the trees had diminished considerably.

"This is my little spot in the woods where I place the meals I don't want to share with the others. It's out of the way, but you'll keep my secret, won't you?" Kharzouz cackled before coming to a complete stop and sighed happily at the sight before him. A dozen cocoons of different shapes and sizes were lined up along the length of the web.

"Now where to place you?" Kharzouz mused aloud, looking back and forth along the length of his web. "You are for tomorrow," he said as he stroked one of the cocoons in the shape of a human female, her nose and ears the only parts of her not wrapped in silk. Muffled screams came through the silk as she writhed in place. Kharzouz paid her no mind as he was already moving to his next captive. It was tiny enough to be a small Pokémon or a human infant, but beyond that Meowth couldn't tell what it was beneath the layers and layers of silk.

"You will be for the day after." The Ariados punctuated each word with a jab to the creature's midsection, evoking small whimpers. Kharzouz hushed the poor creature with a sickening tenderness.

"But you." Kharzouz whirled around with surprising speed and leapt onto Meowth's cocoon. "No one has given me as much trouble as you have…so I think I'll have you…" The Ariados posed dramatically, scratched the space beneath his head just behind his mandibles in mock contemplation. "Now!" He gushed at the faux revelation and plunged his fangs through the silk without warning.

***

"Back in the quarry, what was Pach talking about?" Chimchar asked, breaking the silence that hung over the group as they ate from their bowls. Pikachu watched the others lift their heads from their meals and shift their gazes between the two of them. They were outside and behind Dawn's house as the open flame on Chimchar's rear was a significant fire hazard. Brock had laid out several bowls of pokémon food and had released his own team to join in the meal but Dawn's party was once again absent.

"I got that we couldn't talk about it then, but now seems like a decent time," Chimchar added.

Pikachu looked at each of his teammates and knew that Piplup and Buneary weren't here to bail him out this time.

"It's nothing, Chim." Pikachu attempted to sound dismissive about it all but couldn't hide the fact that his response felt rehearsed.

"It's not nothing," the fire chimp insisted, "Who d'you think you're fooling? I can tell something's been eating at you all day. This morning I thought it was how we thought one of us might've hurt Ash, but after what Pach said, I figure it's what you're not telling us, or both. So I'll ask you again. What was Pach talking about when he mentioned Ambi?"

The mention of her name made Pikachu wince and raised Buizel's already obvious interest in the conversation.

"If you can't tell your teammates, who can you tell?" Gliscor added.

Pikachu sighed and dropped the pellet he'd been holding back into the bowl. "When I went over to see Buneary and the others...I… the…the night we started attacking uncontrollably…I was…the lightning…I couldn't control where…and Ambipom…" Whatever walls Pikachu had painstakingly put up to hold in his emotions in now crumbled with every word. Words eventually failed the electric starter, but the gist of what happened had been conveyed. Chimchar immediately felt guilty for digging up what was obviously still a raw and bleeding subject.

"But it was an accident, right?" Buizel calmly asked.

Pikachu nodded, wiping his face with the fur on his arms.

"And my old team gets that, right?" Buizel replied, placing an arm on Pikachu's back.

"Kinda" Pikachu sniffled.

"I can go talk with them if you want, set some things straight."

Pikachu's response was to hold up his paw."I appreciate the offer, but I think they need time. Piplup looked like he was coming around, and Buneary understood."

Buizel nodded and moved back to where his bowl was, looking at the window where Dawn's room would be.

"Is this why you haven't been using your lightning attacks?" Staravia asked.

Pikachu flinched but eventually nodded as he stared at the ground. "Every time I try to use my element I see her and I…I can't. I don't want any of you to be hurt or worse because of me."

"Hopefully we won't need that kind of power," Croagunk said, drawing the entire group's attention since they'd forgotten he was even there. "Whatever happened to us and the Pokémon we've met might be something limited to just this region. But if it isn't…if we keep finding Pokémon like the ones you guys fought, we might just need that kind of power. Now, I'm not sure if it's my ability or my gut. Might even be a bit of both, but something tells me things will get harder from here on out. Between all of us I don't doubt that we could win a fight against any wild Pokémon we face. But we have no room for error and we must give it our all."

Croagunk then faced the electric mouse. "I get that you can't give it your all right now, Pikachu. You might need time to recover and until then, you'll have to do the best you can without your element. However, you need to know that there's gonna be the risk of some of us getting hurt. Maybe our best won't be good enough and we won't be able to stop someone else from being hurt or worse. It then comes down to which one you're willing to live with: doing your best and it not being enough or always wondering if you could've done more."

***

Meowth's muffled screams evoked another chorus of cries from Kharzouz's captives. The Ariados reared his head back and screamed at his future meals to shut up and stop ruining his meal.

"I'm sorry about them. They're not usually so nosy. I'm so glad I didn't end up trading you to Tilza; you taste so sweet. Sweeter than any of the other meals I've had today. You might just be worth the damage I took to catch you," Kharzouz said before plunging his mandibles into the silk again. Meowth squirmed in his cocoon and moaned at the appropriate times.

It had taken Meowth a few seconds to realize that his captor wasn't actually feasting on him. At least not yet. The berries he had been carrying had been wrapped up with him when they had caught him and dragged him into the forest. Thanks to his own body weight and the rough handling by the Ariados, the berries had been reduced to a thick mash. Meowth could only hope that the Ariados would be sated by the fruit pulp alone.

With the Ariados distracted, Meowth started working on the cut he was making on the side of his cocoon, extending and retracting his claw through the silk. He was starting to make some progress until Kharzouz's mandibles grazed across his chest. His fake screams and halfhearted attempts at writhing in place became very real.

And he had just attracted Kharzouz's attention.

"What's this? Did I hit a nerve?" the Ariados said, his mandibles clicking in what vaguely resembled a smile. It was then that his head lifted off his neck and tumbled across the ground. Blood came out in little spurts as the rest of his body slumped over and landed lifelessly on Meowth's cocoon.

"Umbri, I think we're too late," Glameow whispered as she drew closer to the headless corpse. Meowth's howls were quickly joined by Kharzouz's previous victims as they fought for the attention of their apparent saviors.

"He looks pretty lively," Umbreon said. "It looks bad but let's at least see what the damage is and decide whether he's worth the effort to bring back."

"Can you free him, I'd rather not get my paws any dirtier than they need to," Glameow replied, looking at the aforementioned paw with disdain.

"We came here because you wanted to save him. So go ahead and save him," Umbreon snapped, kicking the headless bug's body off the cocoon.

Glameow glowered at the Eeveelution for a moment before moving over to Meowth and lifting her paw. Meowth watched her claws extend before she gently placed her paw atop his silken prison. Faster than his eyes could follow, her paw morphed into a blur and then reappeared back beneath her body.

The silk around his body fell apart into ribbons without so much as a scratch on his body. Meowth leapt out and was about to hug his savior until she raised a paw with her claws extended.

"As much as I appreciate the sentiment, if you stain as much as a single hair on my body I will carve you like the cocoon!" Glameow said. Meowth looked down at himself and immediately understood why. His fur was stained in all sorts of colors from the crushed fruit that had burst within his bindings. Some of the berries were still sticking to him. And of course, he reeked of urine.

"Right, sorry," he replied, plucking some of the berries off his body. "Not dat I'm complainin', but how did ya find me?"

"We followed your scent and the blood trail the Ariados left from his wound," Umbreon explained.

"Might I suggest we have this lovely conversation elsewhere? It won't be long before the others come back and notice something is off," Glameow said as she turned around and prepared to head out.

"Glam's right, we need to go."

Meowth nodded and started running with them, managing a few steps before he stopped and turned around.

"What are you waiting for?" Umbreon exclaimed. She eventually traced his gaze back to the web of writhing cocoons.

Umbreon nudged Meowth forward with her head. "I know it sucks but we don't have time to help them. It was hard enough as it is to find you and get through here without alerting the Ariados. Staying here any longer than we need to is gonna make it harder to get back to our coordinator and your pilot friends. Bringing more with us is just asking for trouble. So pick, do you want to get caught again or do you want to see your friends?"

Meowth's demeanor changed at the mention of Jessie and James, his paw clenching into a fist as he forced himself to look away and ignore their muffled pleas for help. As they made their way out of the woods, Meowth brooded over the choice he had made. The practical — and callous — side of him knew the ramifications of staying and trying to help the other captives with all its attendant risks and dangers.

He would justify his decision, but he would never be satisfied with the answer. His choice that night would haunt him until the end of his days.

***

The dining room was deathly silent as Johanna settled into her seat across the dining table from Brock. Ash had remained in his seat, absently fiddling with his hat while his eyes flitted between the other two. Brock resisted the urge to ask about Dawn's condition, knowing full well that it wouldn't have improved in such a short amount of time. Johanna's eyes carried no anger but they also held no warmth.

"Did she tell you what happened?" Brock asked, testing the waters to know where he stood.

Johanna closed her eyes, one hand cradling the other atop the table. "Not really. I was hoping you two could fill me in," she replied quietly.

"I believe the way it started was the same for everyone. Our Pokémon started acting up in the middle of the night," Brock said

"If that's what you want to call it," Ash muttered beneath his breath. Brock shot a brief glance to the boy but held his tongue.

"Ash, Dawn, and I managed to get away from our Pokémon and we waited until they calmed down. When we went to make sure they were okay, we found that her Ambipom was hit with one of the attacks and it stopped her heart. By the time we had gotten there it was already too late to save her."

Johanna nodded but said nothing.

"The people that brought us here were nearby when that happened. Their Pokémon had gone through the same issues and in the chaos their Pokémon killed their pilot and they were forced to land. In such small space, a few of their Pokémon died and a lot of them were wounded. I have some medical knowledge, so in return for looking over the Pokémon that could be saved, they offered us transport to Hearthome. However, when we got there…"

Brock's brow furrowed, his hands clenching into fists against the table. "People were getting slaughtered by Muk and Grimer." His voice grew tense as he finished.

Johanna's eyes widened, the intensity of her stare making Ash feel uncomfortable without even being on the opposite end of it.

"We got out of there as soon as we could and at that point Dawn wanted to go home. The people who brought us here need to go to the Kanto region and it was on the way, they agreed to keep taking us. We could've gotten here sooner except our aircraft was attacked by a wild Pokémon over Oreburgh City. The Pokémon was taken out but we were forced to land to make repairs. And that that is how we met the gym leader, Roark." Brock motioned with his neck towards the door.

Johanna was quiet for some time, her gaze now on the white surface of her dining table. "Something told me there was more going on." She sighed and politely moved away from the table and over to the television.

Brock and Ash remained seated and watched her look around the living room. Eventually she came up with the remote control for the television and pressed the power button. What happened next sent a chill down their spine and cemented the true magnitude of their situation.

Brock and Ash expected voices, music or even the piercing tones of a test pattern. Instead, all they got was dead silence.

They watched Johanna go through the channels. The channel number in the top right of the screen soon began to climb into the triple digits. And all they got was silence and a black screen with two words: no signal.

"I've been losing channels throughout the day. I have several channels that showcase contests being held in Sinnoh, as well as Hoenn, Kanto, and even more recently Johto, but as you can see…" Johanna let her words trail off into silence. "Internet has also been out and when I've tried calling customer service or an IT, but I can't get through. My neighbors have been having the same issues. A few hours ago someone went into Sandgem to see if they could get someone to come here and fix it or at least shed some light but he hasn't been back in hours."

"Brock, I'm gonna go ask them how long before the ship can leave," Ash said as he pushed himself from the table.

The gym leader nodded; Johanna wordlessly moved to the side and watched the raven-haired youth exit her home.

"Where do you plan on going from here?" Johanna asked.

"Roark plans to make his way to Canalave to meet with his father. Ash and I have family in Kanto so we were thinking of hitching a ride there," Brock replied.

"Are you planning on leaving tonight? From what you've told me it seems like you've been flying all day. Don't you think you should rest for the night and gather your strength? Even in your ship it would be almost another day of travel."

"With no way to communicate with them to know if our family's okay, every minute we spend is another minute they could be in trouble or worse." Images of his house being shredded by rampaging Pokémon filled his mind. His Pokémon.

"I understand, let me at least get you all something to eat and something to sleep on."

"We'd be really grateful," Brock said, leaving the table and making his way towards the door. "I'm gonna step out for a bit if that's okay."

Johanna merely nodded and went to work.

Brock closed the door behind him and let go of the breath he'd been holding. The more he learned about what was going on, the worse things seemed to be. He knew he wasn't seeing anywhere close to the full picture, but he wondered if he really wanted to.

"How did it go?" Roark asked. His sudden appearance made Brock flinch.

"I didn't notice you were there. But to answer your question, it went all right. Better than expected actually. What about you? How go our defenses?" Brock asked.

"They're fine," Roark replied, unsure if Brock was just humoring him at this point. Oreburgh's gym leader looked out to the dirt road that led into the forest. "It's quiet," he said under his breath, just loud enough for Brock to hear and wonder if Roark considered that quality something good or bad.

"Geodude found something interesting beneath Dawn's house," he added.

"You didn't mess with Johanna's garden did you?"

"No, I made sure that Geodude did his digging some ways away from the house."

"Okay, so what did he find?" Brock's curiosity was now aroused.

"Are you familiar with the network of tunnels beneath Sinnoh?" Roark asked.

"I've read some things about it in a booklet, like how it goes throughout all of the region. Beyond that I don't know much. So you're telling me you found one beneath the house?"

"Yes. I've had Onix set up some entry hazards down there as well, just in case any Pokémon down there try and get near us from below."

"Well you've certainly been thorough. How long do those entry hazards last?"

"From drawn out gym battles I've had in the past they could last about half-an-hour. I've never bothered to see how much longer they would stay. Normally by then the battle is over or the Stealth Rocks have been dismissed or destroyed by the challenger's attack. I can always have Onix reapply the defenses if they go down."

"Sounds good. I'm gonna go check on Team Rocket and see where they are with the repairs." Brock then headed for Johanna's front lawn, where the tilt-rotor was currently parked.

Roark nodded and made his way back to his rock Pokémon, waiting and watching for something to happen.

Brock saw that Pikachu was with Ash but not riding on his shoulder as usual. The boy was conversing with Jessie and James outside of the ship but he couldn't make out their words.

Once he entered speaking range, they all turned to face him.

"Have you seen Meowth?" the Rocket duo asked at the same time.

"No, I haven't." Brock replied calmly. Despite his calm, he had a feeling that this simple question heralded unpleasant things.

"We sent him out to the house a while ago to see if you could spare any food. Did you not see him?" Jessie asked, fear already creeping into her voice.

"We haven't seen him since we got off the ship and neither have the rest of my Pokémon," Ash explained.

The electric mouse's ears suddenly twitched and he moved ahead of the group.

"What's wrong, Pikachu?"

"I think he hears something coming," Brock said, a cold sense of dread washing over him for the umpteenth time that day. They looked to the forested outskirts of the town and watched three figures burst through the bushes.

"Guys!" one of the figures cried out, a cry that brought the light back into James and Jessie's eyes.

"Meowth?!" they cried back and ran to him.

Ash, Pikachu, and Brock felt the tension leave them and smiled.

The other two figures, a Glameow and Umbreon, darted past them and kept moving towards the house. Seeing as Pikachu didn't respond to their presence, they knew that those two were probably Johanna's pokémon. The scene that unfolded could've been touching moment for Team Rocket, whose arms were outstretched to accept the leaping embrace of their mascot/fellow operative.

Except Meowth never jumped into their open arms. Instead he opted to run past them, making his way towards their ship. The light from Johanna's house unveiled more of his features. Dark and colorful splotches had been splattered across his fur, but from the way he moved he didn't look too badly injured.

"We need ta get outta here!" Meowth yelled, rushing past Brock and Ash and hopping onto the aircraft. "Can we get dis bucket a bolts inta da air?"

"Yes, Meowth, but slow down for a second. What happened?" Brock asked.

"We don't have time ta waste!" Meowth yelled. When the twerps and his teammates remained rooted, he looked around, spotting the rotating halo of stones over Dawn's house and sighed. "An Ariados caught me an' took me inta da woods. I woulda been a goner if Glameow an' Umbreon hadn' seen it happen an' come afta me. De Ariados have taken all da humans in Sandgem an' dere catchen' any wild pokémon dey find. Now dere comin' here, so we need ta go!"

Meowth watched the blood drain from their faces as his new information dawned on them.

"Meowth, how many humans did you see them capture?" Ash asked.

"I ain't exaggeratin' when I say I saw hundreds. Dey got da woods around dis town covered in traps ta catch anyting dat tries ta leave. More'll be comin'."

"I need to tell Johanna and Dawn." Brock spun around and bolted up the porch's steps and into the house.

"I'll tell Roark and get my Pokémon ready." Ash sprinted around the side of the house with Pikachu not far behind.

"James, how soon can we get dis ting off da ground?" Mewoth asked as he wrung his paws.

"About five minutes at best," James replied as he and Jessie entered the cockpit.

"I hope we got five minutes," Meowth whispered. He looked at the night sky as if seeking divine help.

***

"That little silkspitter! I knew he was holding out on us. Remember! I told you earlier! I knew he would do something like this. I mean, look at this! And he was gonna hoard this all to himself! Oh Kailob's gonna hear about this!"

"Would you please shut up, you're giving me a headache! And what good does telling Kailob do, Ilzbe? Kharzouz's already dead. S'not like we can do much to him now without looking stupid for playing with a dead body," Tilza replied, kicking Kharzouz's disembodied head towards her for emphasis.

"Serves him right," Ilzbe crowed, stabbing her leg into Kharzouz's eye. She seemed to relish in the sensation of his scrambled brains around her leg as she drove the spike-ended appendage deeper. "Would've loved to have killed him myself, but that begs the question. Who stole my kill!?"

"Seems like his newest catch had a few friends." Tilza motioned at the tracks in the dirt and broken strands of nearly-invisible web woven into the grass. Kharzouz had probably placed them to know if anyone had found his feeding cache and knew what routes to take without disturbing them.

"Looks like our cover's blown. We need to warn Kailob then. He can mobilize the others and we can finish off anyone left in town."

***

Johanna was almost done packing their meals when Brock practically tore the door off its hinges. Glameow and Umbreon looked like they were about to attack him until they realized he was human and shifted their focus to the world behind him.

"Brock, what's wrong?" she asked.

"We just found out that a large group of Ariados are coming. They've got Twinleaf surrounded and are working their way in. We have room for you and Dawn, but we need to go. Now," Brock replied.

Johanna stared at him for a few seconds, the subtle shift of her eyebrows conveying the spectrum of emotions she went through in short succession. Surprise, fear, confusion, despair and acceptance worked their way across her features in a surprisingly short time. She stuffed the last of the contents into Brock's backpack and held it out to him. Despite her determined stare, Brock wasn't sure if the tremble in her arm was from the weight of his backpack or from the fear of his announcement.

Probably a bit of both.

"Take this and get it onto the plane. I'll get Dawn up and grab a few things." Johanna began to make her way upstairs.

"Just the essentials," Brock reminded her as he started making his way to the door. He was about to close it behind him when he looked and saw the woman absently staring around her house. He recognized the look in her eyes; eyes that saw memories in all the objects in the room. Brock understood her reluctance to move immediately. The idea that this could possibly be the last time she ever saw her home. He could see her try to carve every inch of her home into memory but he also knew that they couldn't afford to spend too much time here.

"Johanna," he said softly. His voice carried no urgency, no anger or disappointment. There was sadness there; not from her inaction but that she was forced to make this choice in the first place. While the pain of leaving everything behind had never been something that he had struggled with, he knew it was something difficult for others and could sympathize.

Johanna flinched when he spoke her name, his voice breaking her out of her ruminations and bringing her to the present. She looked at him with a weak smile and gave him a curt nod before disappearing upstairs. Brock closed the door and turned to see Roark leaning against the house beyond the steps of the porch. His Geodude lay at his feet with arms crossed.

"I heard from Ash," Roark said, pushing himself off the wall and facing Brock.

"You can say it," Brock replied as he walked past him and turned around the corner.

"Say what?"

"Something along the lines of 'I told you so'."

"Honestly, there was a part of me that really wanted you to be right," Roark said.

"We'll I guess it pays to be paranoid." Brock sighed.

"It's not really paranoia if it turns out to be right." Roark then saw the reason Brock had made his way to Johanna's backyard. Ash was among his Pokémon with Brock's party off to a side. Without a word, Brock returned his Happiny to her pokéball and pocketed the sphere. Croagunk and Sudowoodo moved before their trainer, standing at the ready and awaiting their orders.

"How much breathing room will your Stealth Rocks give us?" Brock asked.

"Never bothered to measure it. I guess its range is the radius of a gym battle stadium considering that flying-types still have to deal with that hazard."

"That's still a substantial amount of breathing room."

"Keep in mind that the stones won't put them out of commission," Roark said.

"It's damage that'll eventually stack and become a problem for them," Brock replied. He then turned to Ash."Ash, you ready to go?" He watched most of Ash's party turn red and disappear into their capture devices. Ash nodded and started making his way around the house with Pikachu running alongside him.

The breeder then turned to Roark. "You're going to come with us now, right?" To Brock's horror Roark shook his head.

"I'll make sure that you guys can get off the ground safely. Then I'll take the tunnel beneath the house to get out of here and make my way to Canalave. If the bugs try to follow me, then I'll collapse the tunnel," Roark said.

"Roark, I'm sure Team Rocket would be able to drop you off in Canalave before we—"

"—I already asked them that. They said no, but that's okay. Trust me. It's better this way. I want this and you need to go see your family. The longer it takes you to get to your hometown the higher the risk of something happening. I don't want what happened to me to happen to you," Roark said, shooting down any other potential arguments he might've brought up. Seeing his fellow rock gym leader wasn't convinced he continued. "It's okay, Brock. Honestly, I'm a lot more comfortable when I'm underground than being hundreds of feet above the ground and over an ocean. I don't know how you can stand it."

Brock gave him a weak smile. "I manage."

The Oreburgh gym leader would've gone on to say something else except Sudowoodo moved to his side and the sound of something pinging off his stony hide filled the air. Something whizzed past Brock's nose and would've stabbed into Roark's face had his Croagunk not come in the nick of time and shoved Roark's head down. The glowing violet needle pinged off Roark's mining helmet and clattered to the ground. While slow on the uptake, Roark's Geodude slammed his palms into the ground and summoned a massive slab of stone that eclipsed the rock gym leaders from view. Roark's sense of security lasted until he started noticing the cracks starting form along the stone slab that Geodude had placed before them.

Brock's adrenaline spiked as he watched the purple needles bounce off the lithic rampart. Roark turned his gaze up to the ring of rocks, still slowly orbiting the house but the band was still complete.

"They're attacking us from outside Stealth Rock's range!" Roark unleashed a high-pitched whistle from his lips into the cool night air. Brock felt the ground rumble; the sensation was so familiar that he forgot it was Roark's Onix and not his own. The stone snake burst out from the soil and encircled them, dozens of poison spikes futilely bouncing off his rocky bulk.

"Onix, we need to get behind the house!" Roark roared. The rock snake shifted and uncoiled, creating another wall of stone between their failing defense and the broad side of Johanna's house. Sudowoodo, Croagunk and Geodude busied themselves repelling any projectiles that fell too close to their trainers as they ran.

Rampardos emerged from a flash of light by Roark. The prehistoric pokémon wasted no time in charging headlong at the source of the raining needles. The number of projectiles flying at them decreased significantly when the house that the Ariados were using for cover exploded.

Hunks of rubble fell off from his ace's body. The remnants of what was once a home were littered all around him.

"The people that lived there are probably already dead," Roark muttered. Despite his rationalization, he still felt the sting about the reality of that fact. The fate of their attackers was answered when bands of silk started forming around the Head Butt pokémon's joints from different angles. Rampardos tried to retaliate with Flamethrower until one of the smarter and faster Ariados sealed his mouth with a generous amount of web.

Several Ariados started to crawl across their new captive's body, clicking their mandibles in anticipation until his body started glowing red. They fell to the ground once their prey became insubstantial and disappeared from their midst, leaving behind empty webs and wreckage in his wake. Roark pocketed his ace's pokéball and fled before the Ariados remembered who they were originally gunning for.

"So that's not gonna work," Roark muttered from behind the cover of Johanna's house. A chorus of dull thuds reached his ears; each one a toxic needle.

"I hope Dawn and Johanna made it to the ship," Brock thought, imagining what being inside of a room being shredded by needles would be like and shivered at the thought. Sudowoodo ambled over to them and aside from a few scratches from deflecting poisonous needles with his body, he seemed fine. Croagunk — on the other hand — was the opposite, several glowing quills protruded from different parts of his body.

"Croagunk, are you…"

Brock was going to ask if he was okay but stopped himself when the fighting frog plucked out each spike with a bored expression. If anything, Croagunk seemed more uncomfortable with his trainer gawking at him while he yanked out a needle that had skewered straight through his hand.

"Roe?" he croaked inquisitively.

"N...never mind," Brock said, finding some comfort that either the Ariados poison was too weak to affect Croagunk or he was now immune to any and all poisons.

"We gotta keep moving!" Roark's voice reminded him that time was not on their side. His statement was followed by one of the needles stabbing into the ground near him. Roark's Onix took the hint and lifted himself off the ground as he curled around the gym leaders to make a roof of stone over their heads. Spikes began to rain from the sky as the Ariados adjusted the trajectory of their shots.

"You sure you don't wanna just stay with me and come to Canalave?" Roark asked.

"Are you seriously asking me that now!?" Brock shouted with a bit more anger than he intended.

"I'm only asking because getting you back onto your ship is gonna be hard!" Roark pointed around the corner to where the ship was parked. Brock inched over and peeked around the house.

From what Brock could see, the ship was fine. The Ariados were attacking it from different angles with about as much success as they had attacking Roark's Onix. Hunks of ice protruded from each window, preventing any needles from entering the gaps in their defenses. A dark figure blocked most of the view into the cockpit and it wasn't long before Brock recognized it as Ash's Gliscor acting as shield to keep the Poison Sting attacks from entering the hole in the glass.

Even if Brock could make his way over to the ship, he would have to step through grass that was slowly being replaced with needles that had failed to reach their target.

"Brock, what's the inside of Johanna's house look like?" Roark asked.

Brook peeked through the window and was surprised to find it relatively unscathed. "Probably because the attic and the second floor are taking the brunt of the attack," Brock mused as he turned to give Roark a thumbs-up.

Roark nodded to Geodude, who threw himself into the window. The spray of shattered glass flew across the room and jittered along the floor. Using Sudowoodo as a ladder, Brock, Roark and Croagunk climbed into the living room.

"Onix, weaken the Ariados with Screech and follow up with Dig!" Roark ordered through the window, receiving a slight nod and a rumble as over four hundred pounds of stone slithered away. Brock watched his fellow gym leader look about the room and run over to the couch to toss him two decorative pillows.

"Even though it's not being aimed at us, seeing as how all the attacks have gotten stronger, we might wanna use these," Roark said, pressing the pillows over his ears.

"Just us? What about—" Brock's question died on his lips as he turned and found that Croagunk had already braced himself. Years of training his own Onix helped him recognize the low rumble that marked the start of an Onix's roar. Before it could build any louder Brock pressed the pillows over his ears as hard as he could and felt the floor beneath his feet begin to tremble. Onix's Screech attack was less a noise and more a solid wave of force. His entire body shuddered and vibrated as the shockwave buffeted the house.

Roark cautiously moved the pillows away from his head a few seconds after the room stopped shaking; the only sound that now reached his ears was a high pitched whine. "Did you feel that?"

It took a few moments for Brock to register Roark's speech through the ringing in his ears. "I tasted that." Brock looked towards the hole they'd made and saw that the rain of poison spikes had stopped. The ground shook again, signaling the stone snake's second attack had commenced.

"Let's see about getting you onto that ship," Roark said, making his way to the door leading to the porch. Geodude waited behind him but was ready to strike at a moment's notice. The silence no longer held any comfort for them; it was just another way to get them to let their guard down. He turned the doorknob slowly and opened the door just enough to see outside.

Seeing nothing at first he waited and widened the gap until it was enough for Geodude to move through. The rock pokémon rolled through and onto the porch. He looked around, fists at the ready. Finding nothing amiss, he motioned for his trainer to come out and join him but stayed on high alert. Roark moved through but suddenly froze as soon as he left the threshold.

Being so low to the ground, Geodude had missed it but Roark watched the scarlet scuttling form of a single Ariados disappear into the darkness of the woods in the distance.

"Brock, we need to get you onto that ship now!" Roark said as he made his way down the steps and inspected the ground. A familiar rumble — courtesy of Roark's Onix — shook the house as Brock joined his fellow gym leader on the porch. The stone snake slid into view, waiting patiently for his next order as Brock returned Croagunk and Sudowoodo to their pokéballs.

"I'm assuming you know how to ride an Onix," Roark said.

"Knew how to ride one since I was ten," Brock replied.

"Good." Roark nodded before turning to the hulking stone serpent. "Mind helping him get to the door?" Roark's Onix shook his head and lowered to Brock's level.

The breeder hopped on and grabbed the horn for leverage, feeling — ever so briefly — like he was back with his own Onix at home. The moment of reminiscence was soured with the notion that he might not have a home to go back to.

Roark's Onix turned, faced the aircraft and positioned himself so Brock was close enough to touch the door.

"Guys, let me in!" he yelled, knocking on the metal door.

The door slid open, revealing Ash, Pikachu, Dawn and Johanna. He pushed off Onix, letting himself be caught by everyone's arms. He wanted nothing more than to slam the door behind him shut and get the ship into the air. But he had to try to convince Roark to come with them.

"Roark, you're sure about this?" Brock turned and yelled out the aircraft's open door. Roark's Onix shifted to a side, giving Brock a view of his fellow gym leader.

"Positive. Now get out of here!" Roark yelled back, doing his best to smile even with hints of fear creeping into his voice.

"He's not coming with us?" Dawn asked.

Brock shook his head and reached for the door until Ash grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

"Why?" Anger was growing in Ash's voice.

"He's staying because he's gonna go find his father in Canalave," Brock replied.

"We could at least give him a lift."

Brock shook his head again but didn't try to force his way out of his hold.

"It's not about the fuel," Jessie added as she opened the door to the cockpit, drawing everyone's focus back to her.

"It's not?" Ash glared.

"Are we leavin' or not?!" Meowth growled.

"Give us a minute!" Jessie snapped. She exhaled and shook her head. "A lot of our vehicles contain something called a Zarrel ion battery. They pack a punch and help offset the power drain from the vehicle and its equipment. Sadly, a few direct hits, switching to really hot or old, or another electrical source can destabilize them."

Jessie eyed Ash and Pikachu briefly before continuing. "While James, Meowth and I were checking over the aircraft, we found that the ZIB was damaged but stable. The fuel we have at the moment is taking the brunt of this ship's energy needs, but once it runs out, we will be running only on battery power.

"Normally that's not a problem, but the strain of powering the aircraft might destabilize the ZIB. And we don't know when the battery will fail. It could last just long enough for us to get to Kanto or it could blow the moment we run out of fuel. If that happens, we'd all be blasting off again. And I'd rather not do that a mile above the ocean."

Johanna spoke up. "Can it be repaired?" she asked.

Jessie shook her head. "It was never designed to be repaired. They have a failsafe that automatically destroys the battery once it destabilizes so there's no evidence left. Finding another piece of equipment with an intact battery like ours is going to be next to impossible since we're the only agents tasked with establishing a foothold in this region. Every piece of equipment we've ever needed was requested over the communicator. With communications down, I don't think we'll be getting a replacement any time soon."

Jessie watched their downcast expressions and sighed. "Look, I know it sucks, but he told us he was okay with it. He said he found a tunnel by the house where he could get out of this town."

Brock nodded in affirmation and looked to Ash, whose eyes were hard but softened the more he aimed his gaze to the floor. He let go of Brock's hand and stepped away to be by Pikachu. He averted his eyes, not wanting to see Brock seal Roark's fate. Brock reached over to shut the hatch when Roark landed in their midst.

"What's the hold up? Why are you guys still here!?" Roark yelled, frantically searching the room for an answer.

"What's wrong?" Ash asked.

"You need to get out of here now! I'll do my best to hold them off!"

That was all they had gotten out of Roark before he leapt out of the aircraft and ran.

In the coming years Ash would wonder about the events that transpired that night. Questions about whether they could have done things differently would stay in their thoughts and in their dreams. It would not be the first time they asked themselves those questions. But nonetheless, it was one of the most formative moments in their lives. They would dwell on Roark's words because it would the last time they ever heard from him again.


	9. Party on the 8th

As always and with great appreciation, my thanks goes out to Zarrelion for his help on the chapter.

***

August 16 - Vermilion City

***

The sight of Vincent's home brings him back. Back to places he'd buried so deep that they were expected to remain hidden for life. His training kicks in; innocuous details that a civilian might overlook glistened like beacons. Glass crunched beneath his combat boots; if they're this far from the source then he can estimate the magnitude of the blast.

Through the blown out windows he can see only darkness. Shadows that could be concealing enemy soldiers taking aim at him right now. Every atom of his being urges him to get behind cover but he pushes the thoughts down and shakes his head.

Peacetime.

It was something that he reminds himself of every day. That same reminder echoed day in and day out. Year after year. Nothing on the news says otherwise; none of his old contacts have called him for reenlistment. He tells himself he doesn't have to think that way anymore. He doesn't have to fight anymore.

But the sight of Vincent's house tells him a different story.

He makes it to the battered front door, barely hanging from its hinges. His hands reached out to grab it. At that moment, long-buried memories, sights and smells flash into existence.

Pale and bloated limbs, twisted and broken into nauseating geometries, barely hanging from flaps of skin or strands of sinew.

The stink of death.

Screams of pain.

Mangled bodies.

His hand jolts back as if the doorjam was aflame. It was then that he recalled that he's still in Vermilion. Bile bubbles in the back of his throat before he pushes it down and forces himself to open the door.

The moment he touches the knob, the door shudders as if in defeat. He moves aside to let it flop down onto the lawn, his eyes boring into the yawning darkness of his assistant's home.

"Vincent!" he roars. The pulse of his heartbeat is in his ears as he strains to listen for any response.

A smell he's grown painfully familiar with wafts over him and whispers the horrible truths he's been fighting to ignore. Blinking lights from distant ambulances filter in through the blown-out windows. Each flash pushes back the blackness long enough to let him see inside.

The things he sees barely register in his mind before the darkness rushes back to claim his sight. Anything not bolted to floor has been overturned and scattered across the floor. The walls are cracked and blackened like the floors, the choking odor of something burnt fills his lungs before he shouts again.

"Here…Sir." A weak voice replies.

Surge has to bow his head in order to avoid taking the entire wall with him when he barrels through the door, past the living room, and into Vincent's bedroom.

Standing eight feet tall, weighing in at 400 pounds, and armed with the knowledge of how to kill a man in seventy-three different ways, Surge finds himself utterly powerless the moment he enters the room.

Vincent's legs were gone from the knees down, nothing but a shredded mass of meaty pulp were all that was left of his thighs. His arm shakes as he struggles to keep it firm over his forehead in what Surge can only imagine is an attempt at a salute. The soldier in him always knew that there would be casualties in times of war and with that in mind he could brace himself for the loss of a soldier. Part of him wonders if it was a mistake to let his guard down during peacetime, letting himself form attachments because the only time he would ever lose another soldier was to age or when the demons of their past caught up with them.

"Ah…at ease soldier." He stumbles as he finds his voice and returning the salute. He kneels over the man's body as Vincent drops the salute.

"You warned me about the Voltorb." Vincent manages a smile with glistening red teeth and pink foam dribbling from the corners of his mouth. "They just popped outta the pokéballs and wouldn't go back in. They kept screaming until..." Vincent's breath hitches, his eyes scrunch tightly as the wave of pain passes and he exhales.

"You're gonna be okay, there's help co—" Surge begins, wondering how many times he's said these same — insincere — words. He would detach himself from what was happening — sounding hopeful but stern as a superior officer should. He'd done it dozens of times before without fail.

Which is why he feels as though peacetime has made him soft when he can't seem to forge steel into his words or actions.

"Don't bullshit me…Sir." Vincent's cough is followed by a wince. "I can tell from the way you're looking at me. I knew I wasn't gonna make it from the moment you saw me."

His silence is as good as writing the death certificate for this boy he had watched become a soldier. Once again he would have to watch another life slip like sand through his monstrously large hands.

"Shame it went down like this. Do you remember what I told you? How I wanted it to go down?" Vincent asked with a cough.

Surge did remember, but decided to humor his subordinate in his last moments. "This old soldier forgets things nowadays. You're gonna have ta remind him."

Vincent nodded and closed his eyes. His silence made Surge's heart pound until he started talking but kept his eyes closed as if visualizing the whole thing. "I wanted us — all of us from da unit — ta be surrounded on all sides by whatever bastards they'd thrown us at. It woulda been our final charge, our last hoorah, an' none of us woulda wanted to be anywhere else but with you when we called it curtains."

"Damned fools, the lot of you." Surge shook his head.

"Dying under your command would've been the greatest honor, sir. Ya made us men; pulled our asses outta the fire so many times we lost count. Ya never pulled rank on us or some other shit like that. You were more of a father than my real old man ever was. I would've given my life for you. We all would've."

"You all did," Surge replied..

"Except me," Vincent added bitterly.

"I wanted you all to walk the harder road. All of us knew how easy it was to die. Living, with what we had to do, that's a bitch."

"I'll make it up to you, sir."

"Vin, you—"

"I'll let the boys know you're coming. Whip'em inta shape so you'll have something ta be proud of when you join us."

"I was always proud, of all of you," Surge replied.

But Vincent didn't seem to hear him and kept talking. "Bet those bastards have been lazin' about without us. Maybe they took our motto ta heart. What was it again, sir? Something about us going ta hell for all the awful shit we did."

Vincent's voice was growing softer now and his speech started to slow down.

"Party on the eighth ring," Surge said.

"We'll get ice on the ninth," Vincent finished with a contented smile and closed his eyes. "I'm getting really tired, sir. Permission to rest, Sir?"

"Denied, Private. I…order you ta live, ta not…leave your old CO by himself on the battlefield." Surge struggled to keep his voice neutral and calm.

"Hate ta say I'm gonna hafta ignore that order, sir. Just remember though, you're never…" Vincent abruptly grew still and quiet.

Surge kept hoping Vincent would finish but as the seconds turned into minutes he realized that wasn't going to happen. His hand moved over to Vincent's neck, moving the collar of his fatigues to the side to reveal the dog tags around his neck. With a simple tug they came off his neck and dangled in his hands.


	10. To Unite All Peoples

Thanks to Zarrelion his help on the chapter.

***

August 17 - Route 24

***

Giovanni stepped onto the helipad and extended his hand to Matori — his assistant — as she tried her best to balance and walk out of the helicopter in her heels. Her free hand touched his own, the other hand clutching an electronic tablet to her chest. The Rocket boss helped her down and felt the warmth of her touch quickly leave his hand as she struggled to keep her glasses in place while the wind whipped her hair into a frenzy. The helicopter blades whirled above them, making it near impossible to hear each other speak.

They made their way off the helipad and towards the stairs, descending several flights into the base. A dour man — bald except for "wings" of fiery red hair above his ears — along with his bespectacled assistant met them halfway down the steps.

As the group descended, Giovanni produced a pokéball from his pocket and looked to the bespectacled man.

"Make sure my Persian receives the best care possible. Should I find less than favorable results, tonight will be your last night on this earth." Giovanni's tone was cold as he begrudgingly handed Persian's pokéball over to the man who grabbed it and scurried down the stairs. Giovanni turned to the scientist still beside him.

"Dr. Bamda, I expect you have something for me?" Giovanni replied, never once looking at the scientist in question.

The scientist, his bushy eyebrows and impressive mustache unwavering, nodded. The perennial butchering of his name was a sore spot for him but he thought it unwise to correct the Rocket leader. "We're not entirely sure what's happening," he began. "Only that it's happening all across the planet. We've been getting reports from our field operatives of their Pokémon going berserk as well as injuries and even deaths caused by their Pokémon. Our best scientists are working around the clock to find out what has happened. We've performed necropsies on some of the dead Pokémon and found that their muscles and skin have become significantly denser and tougher. Upon dissecting the brain we found that—"

"Do you know why any of this is happening?" Giovanni's response was brusque and demanding.

"Well…no…Sir." Namba stammered out. He then recomposed himself and continued. "With further investigation we may be able to determine that."

"Was it one of ours?"

Namba looked at the Rocket boss. "Sir?" he asked. "I am not sure what you are asking."

"Could this have been caused by one of our departments, either accidentally or intentionally?"

Namba took on a thoughtful expression for a moment and started to shake his head before stopping once more, getting his superior's attention.

"It could be possible," he said. "Considering the results of our experiments in the past, such an effect is entirely possible. However, we lack the capabilities to cause such a powerful and wide-ranging effect in such a short time span."

They descended the last flight of stairs where a steel door at the bottom of the stairwell opened.

Men and women in white coats scurried frantically across the room, pointing at the various graphs and charts on their electronic tablets. One group stood out in the crowd. Every member of that group stood at attention as they awaited the arrival of the Rocket boss and Namba. Giovanni easily matched their faces to their names. They were his best agents, therefore earning them the right to be addressed by name.

"Once you sent out the recall, these operatives were the first to arrive," Namba said as he stood beside Matori.

Giovanni stopped before the first pair. Their silver uniforms stood out among the other operatives.

"Attila—" the burly blond man began.

"And Hun, reporting," the gray-haired woman finished.

"Agent 009." The lithe blonde woman bowed slightly with a smile. Giovanni knew her as Domino…among many other codenames.

"Marauder." The heavy, rough voice boomed from a massive man whose face was hidden behind an armored bronze mask.

"Annie and Oakley." A blond woman and a blue-haired woman chimed in simultaneously.

"Cassidy!" the gold-haired woman exclaimed.

"And Bill," the green-haired man croaked, earning him a few quizzical stares from the others in the row, including Giovanni.

"I thought your name was Butch?" the Rocket leader asked.

The color change that the operative underwent would have made a Kecleon proud as he quickly reddened and then began to turn purple with exasperation and anger. Cassidy grabbed his shoulder with a reassuring squeeze and shot him a look that brooked no argument.

"I recently had it changed," Bill grumbled, as he deflated and resumed his normal color.

Giovanni would've said that he didn't look like a "Bill" but decided that now was an inappropriate time to comment. He faced the elite operatives again. "What's the situation in Hoenn?"

Both agents, while calm and composed as was befitting their elite status, looked at each other nervously.

They didn't get a chance to speak before Attila broke the silence. "We had succeeded in capturing Rayquaza. Attempts to tame it were minimally successful at best but we had some new procedures lined up that looked promising. However, a massive spike in Rayquaza's power occurred, allowing it to kill most of the staff and escape the facility. Its whereabouts are unknown at this time, Sir. I have no excuse." Attila bowed his head.

Hun noted that their boss didn't seem remotely bothered by the loss of one of their greatest catches to date.

"Domino." Giovanni turned to face the woman with blonde curls beside Hun. There was a fire in her blue eyes. A burning ember that radiated such unwavering loyalty that it edged into zealotry. Often times she had made bold advances towards him but each and every time he had tactfully turned her down. Not that he didn't find her attractive. But he needed to consider how she stood to benefit from this action. If it were something as simple as lust, then he could let some of his guard down. But one could never be too careful.

She performed to the best of her ability in the field but much like the aircraft that he had put into storage years back, something about her reminded him of a failure that — as far as memory served — never happened. As such he had sent her away to a far-off region to see what she could gather for the advancement of Team Rocket. Though it seemed not enough time had passed to shake those odd feelings of frustration he had whenever he looked at her.

"It's as Attila said. I was working undercover in the Ferrum region investigating rumors of legendary Pokémon being spotted there. Turned out to be more myth than anything but before I could send out my report, the Pokémon started to go berserk. There were casualties." Domino's tone was neutral, betraying no sense of the fear she had felt then.

"Marauder." Giovanni glanced at the hulking form behind him with a grimace. The iron-masked man returned the sentiment and for a while the two simply stared at one another. It was no secret within the organization that Marauder desired to kick Giovanni off his throne and take his organization for himself. Giovanni had known this well before the Celebi incident, but knew that he could take the man's drive to usurp him and use it to further his own goals.

With every mission Marauder completed for him, Giovanni added another layer of certainty that he would remain on top. Giovanni would've liked to believe that he was getting away with this without Marauder's knowledge, but that would be insulting the man's intelligence.

And potentially dangerous. Underestimating one such as Marauder was a foolhardy action.

He could only imagine what it was like to work against your own goals…all while thinking you were forwarding them.

"If you don't recall, you sent me to the Holon region to investigate a new type of Pokémon native there and see if the new Dark Balls Dr. Jumba—" Marauder began.

"Namba!" the scientist snapped from behind the Rocket boss.

"–was working on could still work on them." Maurader continued on without missing a beat. "Things were going smoothly up until yesterday. Fortunately, I had only caught Pokémon that knew physical attacks and none of them ended up killing each other. The problem is what came afterwards. When the Pokémon woke up they started attacking me and the lab assistants. The indoctrination of the pokéball was nullified somehow. Returning them was no longer effective and trying to catch them with another only delayed them for a few seconds."

Giovanni's hand cradled his chin as he studied the floor and moved away from the Iron Masked Marauder to Bill and Cassidy. If memory serves, then they were his only field agents in the Sinnoh region. "What do you two have to report?"

"We were in the Sinnoh region helping Dr. Gero—" Cassidy said.

"Okay, that had to be on purpose!" Namba interjected from behind the Rocket boss.

"—acquire Hippowdon sand for his research."

"Fair...enough." While unorthodox, Dr. Namba had proven himself time and time again with his research. If there was time, Giovanni would grill Namba later as to the possible uses sand from that source had.

"Annie? Oakley?" Giovanni abruptly faced the sisters.

"We were halfway to Guyana to see if we could find you more genetic traces of Mew when we got your message and turned back." The two spoke in such perfect unison that it sounded as if one person was speaking.

Giovanni nodded and turned away from the group. He narrowed his eyes and stroked his chin as he gazed out across the room as if he was viewing something beyond the reinforced metal walls.

"Take the next six hours to get what sleep you can. It may be a few days before you can have that luxury again. I would send you out now but changing time zones will cause complications later on, regardless of your loyalty to me. Matori, please take inventory of this facility's supplies and bring me the itinerary. Namda, the next necropsy better be more informative or you'll be on the table next. I expect you all to report to me at 0900 for your assignments."

Every agent stood a bit straighter and saluted. "Yes boss!" they chanted in unison.

"You're all dismissed." Giovanni sighed and rubbed his forehead. His mind buzzed with activity like a Beedrill nest, each soldier an idea of how to proceed.


	11. Gone With the Win

Thanks to Zarrelion his help on the chapter.

***

August 17

***

A veritable river of crimson poured out from the woods. As if ordered by an unseen force, the halo of stones over Johanna's house froze in place, aimed, and launched across the field. Roark and the ariados quickly learned that even a tiny bit of pressure in the right place could spell big problems. Stealth Rock was meant to be an entry hazard, but now it acted more like Stone Edge. The stony points speared through the ariados' delicate exoskeletons and slipped into the earth beneath them.

Another row of ariados crawled over the corpses of their fallen brethren. They advanced about a foot before the stones that had slain the first row of ariados rocketed upwards from the ground, tearing apart the next procession of ariados. The stones returned to their original formation — a lethal halo over Johanna's house. Each stone dripped with gore, gleaming like a morbid beacon and daring the swarm to proceed.

The remaining ariados took the hint and paused. Only to raise their heads in unison and unleash a volley of poisoned flak. Roark's Onix immediately coiled around his trainer. The metallic ringing of hundreds of needles deflecting off stone echoed in Roark's ears. The distant hum of the aircraft gave him a small sense of comfort until the sound of the needles abruptly changed pitch.

A burst of light caught the swarm's attention. Some continued firing at the rising aircraft while those that faced the burst of light met crimson eyes and a torrent of flame. At the first sight of flames the swarm scattered; many of them taking refuge in the vacant homes of Twinleaf Town. Following their wisdom, Roark retreated back into Johanna's house with Geodude floating at his heels.

The house shuddered as he slammed the door behind him. He stopped momentarily to consider if locking it would buy him some extra time. The answer came in the form of loud thunks against the wood as a number of glowing needles protruded halfway through.

Roark leapt away just as his Geodude rushed ahead and placed himself between his trainer and the door.

Despite the added barriers, Roark felt no safer on the first floor than he did outside. Occasionally the house and ground would shake. A sign that Onix or Rampardos were doing their best to keep the swarm from approaching. Roark looked around, noting the lack of windows to give him a vantage point through which to check on the aircraft and retaliate against the swarm's moves.

"I could make for the tunnel!" The thought entered his mind as he made his way up the stairs. "Do I really have wait for them to be gone before I can escape?" Roark shook his head halfway up the steps. "No. I owe them for getting me out of the deathtrap that my city became. I'm not gonna abandon them like I did my town. I have to see this through. I'm not going to be like him."

***

"Is he inside?" Onix asked over the constant stream of hisses that filled the air.

"Looks like it," Rampardos replied. "Why are we still here?"

"Roark doesn't want to leave until that giant metal thing is out of here. We have to keep him safe and make sure that thing leaves this place."

"So we can let loose?" Rampardos didn't bother to hide the excitement in his voice.

"Long as we don't hit the house Roark's in or the flying metal thing. Oh, and don't get caught again, Roark won't be here to save you."

Onix coiled his body like a tight spring before lunging towards the closest house. Over four hundred pounds of airborne stone pulverized the walls on contact and set the ground trembling

"Show off," Rampardos said beneath his breath as he shifted his gaze to the aircraft the other humans were on. Several strands of silk soared through the air and latched onto its metal underbelly as it steadily rose higher into the sky. Rampardos doubted the Ariados had enough strength or weight to keep the ship from moving but that fact didn't seem to stop them from trying.

***

At first, everything seemed to be going well. When Roark had leapt off the aircraft with his last words, the Rocket Trio immediately began to lift off. Protocols that dictated each and every instrument be checked and rechecked before liftoff were passed over in favor of a cursory inspection.

Indeed, Brock, Dawn and Ash didn't even have time to fasten their seatbelts as the tilt-rotor lurched and began to climb upwards at an agonizingly slow rate. It was the trade-off they had made: rate of climb had been sacrificed for VTOL capability.

It was when the aircraft shuddered under a massive impact that Brock dared to look out the window to see what the problem was.

He immediately wished he hadn't. A swarm of ariados poured out of the surrounding dusk-lit woods and began ravaging the town. It was then he noticed the aircraft had stopped ascending and a shrill alarm began to sound.

"James! What's the hold up!?" Jessie snapped from her position in the copilot's seat.

James opened the throttle even further but the altimeter showed no signs of changing. "We're caught on something."

"Well get us uncaught den!" Meowth yelled from behind them. "Or dem ariados will be pickin' dere teeth wit our bones!"

The blue-haired Rocket operative looked at the fuel gauge. He was stuck with a sadistic choice, use up the fuel to try and break free —and risk the Zarrel ion battery failing in a spectacular explosion that would most certainly kill all those aboard or conserve the fuel and not break free — and risk letting the ariados eat them alive.

He weighed his options and slammed the tilt-rotor's throttle past the maximum safe limit. The aircraft shuddered and the roar of the engines became deafening as the aircraft began to rise.

***

If Rampardos were honest with himself, what the ariados were doing amused him. It was like watching a wurmple trying to wrangle an angry aggron. One ariados was being dragged across the grass as fought it to keep the craft from moving with nothing more than the strength of its spindly limbs. Rampardos allowed himself a hearty laugh at the sight and would've continued had the rest of the swarm not learned from their comrade's mistake. The tilt-rotor had gained enough altitude that it started to fly east, making it a few meters before being forcibly halted in its tracks.

The craft's twin thrusters flared to life, throwing out long tails of blue fire that stood out sharply against the rapidly dark sky. The aircraft moved a few inches as it strained against the silken restraints.

Concrete walls cracked and crumbled; patches of earth were torn from the ground as the pilot tried to break free. But for every strand that snapped from the strain, another three were quick to reconnect and reinforce the broken ends that anchored the ship to the surrounding houses.

Rampardos watched the pilot try a new tactic. Reversing abruptly and spinning the craft around only to fly full-throttle in the opposite direction. Despite his efforts the strands still held strong and kept the craft in place.

Another salvo of strands soared through the air, missing the rotor blades by a few inches as the pilot moved the only safe direction still left to them: upwards.

Poisoned needles and silk strands flew, faltered and arched back down to the ground as the aircraft flew as high as the strands allowed.

Groups of Ariados were already starting to make the climb up the strands by the time Rampardos moved to stop them. A flash of light and a rushing wave of warmth were quick reminders to the swarm that there were still threats around them. The Head Butt Pokémon did the first thing that came naturally to him and charged like a lithic battering ram, spraying cones of fire as he went.

His opponents proved themselves to be quick learners when Roark's ace felt something catch his ankles in the midst of his charge. The ground quickly rose to meet Rampardos' face. The force of the subsequent collision created a sizable scorched crater beneath him. Attempts at lifting himself off the ground with his arms served as a painful reminder of how weak and stubby they really were.

Efforts to move his legs proved fruitless with what he imagined was another well-placed String Shot binding his ankles. Without a second thought he spewed fire at his feet and came to regret it with the pain that surfaced immediately after. Through the white fog of agony he felt the hold around his legs loosen as the webbing burned away.

A small group of ariados were starting to converge on him. Only to meet their demise when their supposed prey slammed his head against the earth.

The neighboring houses shivered from the blow that managed to catapult Rampardos into the air and few meters back from the crater. The remains of the ariados that had gotten too close to him were still raining over the neighborhood when Onix's body erupted out from one of the houses, sending a spray of debris and bits of ariados into the air.

"Let me guess..." Onix began, looking at the newly formed crater and the blackened ankles of his teammate.

Rampardos shot Onix a glare as hot as his Flamethrower. "Don't start. Not all of us can dig and avoid their damned silk."

"I think I just might have something for that." The stone snake looked up at the aircraft for a few seconds and nodded. The stones that comprised his upper body started to spin and dirt from the ground around them started lifting into the air as the wind picked up. The lithic serpent opened his maw and unleashed a column of sand that joined the maelstrom that now swirled around the neighborhood.

Shifting swaths of brown and gold filled his vision. It wasn't thick enough to obscure his view of the neighborhood but he could constantly feel the grains of sand wash over him in waves.

"There, that should make it impossible for their silk to reach us and harder for their shots to hit us."

"What about the flying metal thing?" Rampardos asked.

"I made sure to keep the sandstorm low. As long as they stay where they are the sand shouldn't bother them."

"Looks like we won't be alone." Rampardos motioned with his head towards the aircraft. Onix looked up and was surprised to see something gliding gracefully through the maelstrom of sand. Gliscor crossed his pale indigo claws and rapidly swung them apart, launching his X-Scissor at the silk strands beneath the ship. The vacuum blades slammed into the strands but the silk cord remained undamaged

"Let's go help him out!" Onix roared, launching himself deeper into the battlefield.

***

Roark backed away from the window and closed it, watching the glass rattle against the wind and sand. The sound of the granules washing over Johanna's home created a constant drone that filled the entire house with white noise. Making out what was going on outside became an impossible task as long as the sandstorm raged, but that was a small degree of comfort for him. If he couldn't see through it, then hopefully neither could the ariados.

One of the window panes suddenly cracked, making Roark flinch and slowly inch away. He turned and eyed his Geodude who had his back to him and was busy guarding the entrance of his room. The presence of his first Pokémon offered him some respite, but it wasn't enough to stop him from feeling vulnerable.

"I need a weapon," Roark mumbled to himself as he glanced around the bedroom. His Geodude took the hint and moved out of his way and into the hallway outside.

"Or do I?" Roark stopped himself in mid-step. Scenes of the carnage in Oreburgh flashed through his mind.

"I guess I only feel like I need a weapon. Having one makes me feel safer…but it doesn't actually make me any safer. The soldiers… they had training, tactics, armor, more advanced weapons and even a fucking tank! What do I have that they don't?"

He watched Geodude swivel back and forth as he made sure nothing could sneak up on him and his trainer. The animate rock smiled, and gave him a thumbs up.

"I know what Pokémon are capable of and I won't underestimate them." Roark mentally replied to his earlier question. He nodded to himself, as if satisfied with his answer and made his way back downstairs, letting Geodude take the lead. Sand sprayed into the room in bursts through the broken window he and Brock had come through.

Without even being told, Geodude moved towards the breach and held his position. If the waves of sand splashing over his face and open eyes bothered him, then he didn't show it.

"I doubt Johanna has a gun, which is fine. I doubt I'd be comfortable even using one and I'd rather not bring any more attention to myself; those things can get pretty loud."

Roark's busied himself in the kitchen, flinging drawers and cabinets open in a desperate attempt to search for something to arm himself. Forks and knives might as well have been toys. Johanna's expensive knife set seemed like a marginally better option. Roark pulled the biggest and longest knife he found out of the block and did a few practice thrusts and slashes before he let his arm fall to the side with a sigh.

"These ariados have ranged attacks. I'll be dead before I even got close enough to cut them."

Something from the battle outside shook the house again, causing anything still remaining on the shelves to finally fall. Roark crouched behind the counter for cover as he waited for the tremors to dissipate. His fingers wrapped around the hardwood handle of the knife as he readied himself for battle.

The lights in the house flickered and died, leaving Roark in the dark with only his meager weapon. Seconds ticked by without incident before he found the switch on his helmet and activated the light. Another few heartbeats went by before he lowered his knife to the wooden floor and grabbed the metal knob that was apparently in front of his face.

Several metal pans were stacked within the cupboard. He entertained the thought of donning them as armor like some post-apocalyptic knight. But the pots and pans promised him even less protection than the armor that the soldiers of Oreburgh wore. His eyes did notice a cast iron skillet among the ensemble, but lifting it quickly reminded him how heavy and unwieldy it felt in his grip.

"Wish I'd brought a pickaxe with me," Roark muttered as he put the skillet away. He made his way across the room. The beam of light from his helmet flitted across the room, revealing books and contest trophies knocked from fancy bookcases and scattered around the sandy floor.

Geodude kept to his post, the floor around him slowly disappearing beneath the invading sands. Just outside the whirling sands, he could see Johanna's garden — or its remains being torn apart and swept up in the storm.

Roark looked around the kitchen before he had a sudden flash of insight. "Her garden!"

"Geodude," Roark began, waiting until the rock Pokémon turned to face him. "I need you to go out and see if Johanna has a shed. I think I saw one connected to the side of the house. Bring me something from there I can use as a weapon."

The sound of stone scraping stone reached Roark's ears as Geodude crossed his arms and gave him a withering stare.

"Don't give me that look. You can go out there safely and it's just around the corner. It'll take you a few seconds if you hurry!" Roark ordered but didn't see the glowering stone move. After a few seconds of hard staring, the stone Pokémon grumbled his name and launched himself through the window and disappeared into the quartz maelstrom.

Roark began to feel as though he were in an hourglass as the seconds passed and sand continued to pour through the shattered windows. Aside from counting the seconds, the miner had no idea how much time had elapsed and whether he should start to be worried at Geodude's prolonged absence.

His answer came in the form of an ariados bursting through the shattered window. A mixture of blood and sand flowed from a wound on its thorax that Roark guessed to be from the Stealth Rock.

"But it didn't finish the job." The dark thought that shadowed Roark's observation breached the surface of his thoughts.

The ariados froze upon seeing him. Its mandibles clicked as it studied him without moving an inch. Roark's heart was beating painfully against his chest, every shaky breath sounding obnoxiously loud in the silence. Why the ariados wasn't attacking was beyond him. And with no immediate cover to hide behind, it had a clear shot at him.

The moment of unnatural stillness ended when the ariados slowly dipped its thorax down and pressed it to the floorboards of Johanna's home. Upon lifting it back, Roark noticed a stringy residue still clinging to the long leg Pokémon's spinneret. One of its hind legs slid back and pressed against something that caught the light of Roark's helmet light.

He noticed the thin sliver shift back and forth with the movements of the ariados' leg. All the while the red arachnid stared at him. The strand went still until something tugged at the other end and the ariados replied with a single tug in return. By the time Roark put together what was happening, it was already dead.

The spray of sand from the storm outside made him wince and close his eyes as the room was filled with the sound of something sinking into the wooden floorboards. When the spray of sand subsided somewhat, he opened his eyes and saw that the ariados was still there in the same spot. Yet, there was something about it that didn't seem quite right. It wasn't until its legs buckled and the body toppled forward that he noticed the shovel now separating the ariados's head from the rest of its body.

Geodude harrumphed and crossed his arms, everything about his posture and expression growling, "I told you so."

"Okay, okay! You were right, I was wrong. Thanks for the save, and getting the shovel by the way," Roark said, cautiously making his way over to the spade. The ariados was still, but Roark couldn't get over the idea that it could come alive at any second and attack him. His hesitation must've bothered his first Pokémon because he moved over, yanked the shovel out of the corpse and handed it to him.

Roark took it and felt the weight, immediately feeling more comfortable with this item than he would with any gun or knife. It wasn't his pickaxe but it was close enough that it was practically an extension of him. Shovels were always a bit of a bittersweet tool for him; they reminded him of his father, given that they were his signature tools. Roark watched the dark ichor flow along the blade and drip onto the floor by his boots. A pang of sadness that such an essential tool in his line of work had been used to take a life.

Dark mist started to ebb from the shadowy corners of the room; a fact that Roark and Geodude were quick to notice. Out from the shadows burst another Ariados only to be intercepted by another stone dagger that smashed through the ceiling. The ariados immediately angled itself to the side. That action turned a direct hit into a mere graze.

Geodude took the brunt of the Shadow Sneak attack, using his arm to block the ariados' body while it tried to sink its mandibles into his stony arm. By the time the bug realized it would make no progress with its tactic, it was already too late. Geodude's fist slammed through its horn and into its face, causing its head to explode.

Roark brought his arm up to shield himself from the splinters and bits of roof that filled the air. By the time he lowered his arm the fight had already concluded, or so he had hoped until more shadows began to materialize in the dark corners of the room. Geodude rolled back at Roark's feet with his arms raised and ready to take any blow meant for Roark.

The Ariados sprung at them from the shadows. Too many for Geodude to block and too fast for either he or Roark to follow — which would've been a problem, had a salvo of stones not rained down through the ceiling, cutting their aerial tackles short. Geodude struck without hesitation, manifesting stones in his hands and throwing them at the downed Ariados like knives. By the time the Stealth Rock slipped out of its target, another stone quickly replaced it.

Four ariados remained and despite all the fear that told him to run away to safety, Roark lunged at one of the fallen spiders and swung the shovel down on its head as hard as he could. The fear and hesitation dissolved upon knowing he would only be safe once he killed every ariados in the room. Roark felt the exoskeleton crack and crunch beneath his swing. A flicker of superiority and satisfaction ignited in his core.

Wasting no time, Roark ripped the shovel out from the creature's lifeless body. The lack of screams telling him everything he needed to know. He ran across the room where the other ariados was already getting up. Roark brought his shovel down like a knight's battleaxe, only to lodge his weapon into Johanna's wooden floor when his target moved its head slightly. The Oreburgh miner reacted quickly, shifting his weight onto the shovel and slamming it against the creature's head just as it launched a length of silk from its mouth.

Roark felt the attack rush by him, the sound reminding him how one hit would immobilize him and spell his doom should he make a single mistake. The miner moved on instinct, jumping onto the nearest ariados and slamming his boot onto the arachnid's open wound. The result was a screech that shook the gym leader to his bones.

The spider's legs buckled beneath the pain and Roark's weight. Its spindly legs frantically slashed at the floorboards as it tried to throw Roark off. Roark lifted his shovel back into the air and swung. All the while he was grinding his boot into the bubbling wound. The ariados's screaming and upturned head never saw or felt the shovel's edge cut into its throat. Roark watched the head bounce along the floor until he remembered there were still more ariados to fight and turned to find one already taking aim at him.

Roark reflexively dove to the side behind Johanna's couch, hoping his meager excuse for cover would buy him enough time to consider his next move. Before Roark could even scramble away he heard something spatter against the wall and replace the sound of raining needles.

A frantic heartbeat later his Geodude rolled over to where he lied, offering him a hand which his trainer gratefully took. Once on his feet, Geodude motioned towards the stairs, a suggestion Roark didn't question as darkness began to bleed from the corners once more.

More ariados lunged at them, unaware of the entry hazard that awaited them as they infiltrated the house. Another shockwave from the battle outside rocked the foundations of Johanna's home, evoking creaks and groans that made Roark wonder how long his refuge from the sandstorm would last.

Steady streams of sand poured from the ceiling; each hole marking where Stealth Rock dove through to strike the newcomers. Holes pocked the second floor hallway. The fine dust of sand whistled in through the shattered windows of the house.

Roark realized that the ariados weren't entering Johanna's home to come to kill him. They were just trying to avoid staying in the sandstorm. That and the damage from the entry hazard were probably the only reasons he was able to survive this long. Let alone kill an ariados with his comparatively pathetic weapon. Another series of pained screeches from the first floor reminded him that death's hourglass still flowed.

Geodude swiveled around and readied himself for the oncoming swarm he was sure would come up the stairs. Another shard of stone speared through the attic and the floor between Roark's feet. It was a harsh reminder that while Stealth Rock was only supposed to go after the ariados, the stones didn't care whether he was in their path or not.

A chorus of hisses filtered through the floorboards from below, the sounds of a thousand scrapes and scratches filling the air and growing louder as the swarm drew closer and closer to the stairs. Roark gripped his shovel until his shaking hands were white. He swallowed and braced himself for what was to come. The fact that he was drawing more ariados away from Brock and the others had stopped being a comfort.

***

Onix's sandstorm was working perfectly as far as Gliscor was concerned. Any attempts to bind him with silk or scratch him with their poisoned needles were blown away before they even got anywhere near him. Anything that wanted to affect him would have to use those techniques at point-blank range. Assuming that the creature stayed alive long enough; an unlikely preposition.

The ariados swarm wasn't too keen on staying in the sandstorm and immediately broke ranks to scatter and seek refuge within the surrounding vacant houses. At least that was the case within the storm. Above the swirling sands was another story.

Several meters between the rushing sands and the aircraft was a small group of ariados steadily making their way up a thick silk strand. Every time Gliscor broke the surface of the storm, the ariados launched volleys of silken strands. Staravia had also been sent out to help him. While he couldn't safely enter the sandstorm like Gliscor, he could at least keep the ariados busy and slow their advancement. He did his best to keep some of them occupied, still others crawled up the thread.

Efforts to sever the strand with long-range attacks inside the storm had failed. No matter how much strength he put behind his X-Scissor, the thread withstood all his punishment without so much as a nick for all his trouble. There was the possibility that he could slice through it with his claws but he decided against touching the silk.

A few minutes earlier, a String Shot from one of the ariados above the sandstorm latched onto his tail. His attacker quickly realized it'd gotten more than it bargained for when Gliscor pulled the unlucky ariados into the storm. The idea of releasing the strand held between its mandibles lost its appeal when it saw how far away it was from the ground.

And so the ariados struggled to hold onto Gliscor while the flaying winds whipped it around like a kite in a hurricane. When the scouring winds didn't finish it off, the aeroscorp gave his tail a hard yank, reeling the ariados straight into the crushing embrace of his open claw.

Battered — and now beheaded — the body plummeted to the ground where it splattered, leaving Gliscor's claw with the crushed and dripping remains. Seconds into the kill, Gliscor realized he couldn't open up his claw to release the pulpy contents. As hard as he tried, he could only widen the gap by about a centimeter, revealing the silk strand in what was once in the ariados's mandibles.

The sand coated thread linked his stinger and claw, while it didn't limit his mobility; this wasn't the ideal moment for a handicap. Tearing it apart by the strength of his tail and arm only served to exhaust him further. While the silk was covered by a layer of sand carried on the winds; he didn't want to risk immobilizing himself even further by using his fangs or his other claw.

Gliscor eventually landed by Rampardos, who had just barreled through a house, removing one of the tilt-rotor's anchors.

"Can you help me get this thing off?" Gliscor yelled over the din of swirling sands. Rampardos turned to face him, the wreckage of the house falling off his body with every step.

A few seconds was all it took for the lithic battering ram to understand Gliscor's dilemma. "Don't move," he commanded. Puffs of smoke coiled out from his mouth as he spoke. Before Gliscor could voice his concerns, the flames had already sprung forth. The air between him shimmered and hissed as sand flitted through the focused inferno and became wispy strands of glass. By the time Gliscor had registered that attack and hopped away, it was over. With trepidation, he noted a scorched patch of earth between them.

Glancing down, he noticed the webbing that connected his stinger to his claw had been severed; each end was slowly being devoured by flames that inched up the adhesive thread, heedless of the raging storm. On reflex, the aeroscorp flitted about and eventually snuffed out the flames before they reached his carapace.

"A warning would've been nice," Gliscor said huffily.

"Would you have stayed still if I had told you?" Rampardos replied.

Gliscor opened his mouth as if to say something, thought about it for a second, then promptly closed it. "Point made."

"Thought so." Rampardos smirked.

"Wait, if you can just burn the webbing, why haven't you done it for the thing holding the ship?"

"I thought the same thing, but Onix"—the mention of the stone snake's name was punctuated by the explosion of another house in the distance—"said that the fire could end up doing more harm than good to that flying metal thing and the humans inside. He thinks that whatever makes their webs sticky also makes it burn really well."

"Guess that makes sense." Gliscor sighed, looking at the burnt strands from his claw.

"Speaking of…" Rampardos murmured, tilting his head to get a look at the central strand that anchored the aircraft, several strands extending from the central cord and linking it to the surrounding houses. "How's it going up there?"

"Not good! There's a group of ariados climbing up the strand to get on the ship. Staravia's doing his best but with so many attacking him, he can only dodge and make attacks that'll slow them down. Every time I come up to help they try and web me or knock me down with a wall of needles."

Rampardos nodded then looked around, watching Onix plow through another house that helped anchor the aircraft to the ground. "It won't be too much longer until we finish off these houses and all we'll have to deal with is that big strand. Onix plans on weakening the ground at the base of that web column and though they'll be carrying a lot of sand and silk, they'll able to fly away.

"This sandstorm won't be going for too much longer and the moment it ends, I'm sure these buggers are gonna hit us with every web and needle they've been holding before Onix can start a new one. Hopefully your group and mine will be gone by then."

"Here's hoping," Gliscor replied, trying to force some optimism into his voice.

"Tell you what; let me give you a boost."

"Thanks, but I can get back up there with my tail." The aeroscorp waved his claw.

"I know you can, but with all this wind and sand, you start slowing down before you actually breach the surface of the storm."

Gliscor's gaze traveled up the strand until he couldn't see it through the haze of sand before breathing out and closing his eyes.

"Okay what did you have in mind?"

Rampardos smiled. "Hold onto my head and get ready to jump."

Gliscor did as he was told, grabbing hold of Rampardos's horns and coiling against the hard surface of the Head Butt Pokémon's blue crown. The Head Butt Pokémon broke into a run that lasted a few seconds before slamming his tail into the ground and catapulting into the air. The aeroscorp was astonished at how high Rampardos's leap had carried them but he didn't have time to ponder the thoughts before Rampardos spoke.

"Now!" Rampardos roared. Gliscor took the hint and extended his tail with all of his strength. The aeroscorp rocketed through the air, feeling the sting of the sand as he flew faster than he had ever gone. The prickling passed once he burst through the sand cloud and saw the aircraft once more, but what he saw filled him with dread.

Staravia was plummeting towards the sandstorm.

While Gliscor had seen him do that a dozen times, only to shift the angle of his wings at the last second and fly back up with a sudden burst of speed, there was something off this time. Upon closer examination, the angle at which he fell was completely wrong.

Rave's wings hung at his sides, his head curled inward as his body slowly turned during his fall. Gliscor's vision shimmered then reddened as Staravia's body faced him and revealed a glowing purple needle embedded in his chest.

The ariados were now atop the aircraft, circling what looked like shards of ice. The aeroscorp thrust out his arms to slow his ascent, twirling through the air and screaming as he soared back towards the vessel.

***

A few moments earlier...

"Tell me again why we can't just hit them with our needles anymore?" Zukus demanded, jamming his foreleg into the seam of the top hatch on the aircraft's roof.

"When they dropped the eggsack holding your brood, did your egg break the fall? Honestly! It's because of you and your stupid group that we have to deal with those rock beasts and a fucking sandstorm!" Ilzbe hissed, pointing at the swirling sands below them.

"Don't get your web so tangled. I didn't lead the charge! Go hiss at Sniknej and Yoreel," Zukus snapped, glancing up from his work to keep an eye on the Staravia that darted around them.

"There's no point in yelling at them now because they're dead and it's all because those stupid silkspitters went and charged in headfirst and got slaughtered! I know your swarm recently joined ours, but this is what happens when you don't consult Kailob on how he wanted to do this! We could've done this quietly, stealthily!" Ilzbe continued to rant.

"Why does Kailob even want these humans alive anyway? My group captured plenty of humans from the town over." Zukus's voice strained as he struggled to find purchase along the seams.

"Because unlike you and your group, Kailob can think of the long-term goals. If you poison them with one of our stings then they liquefy, which is fine for a meal. If we just kill without poison, then once again that's only good for a meal or two. But if you keep them alive and drain'em a little bit at a time, then you can keep them for longer. All you need to do is give them a little water every day and they can last you a month."

"Don't we have enough?"

Ilzbe responded with a withering stare. "You know what, maybe you're right. Maybe we have all the food we need. Let's just spit our web at the spinning things that are keeping this thing above the ground, let it crash, burn, and kill all the potential food inside and head back to the forest. Then when we start dividing up the food amongst the swarm, I'll let Kailob know you didn't want extra food, so you and your brood can make do with less while the rest of us have an equal share."

"Okay, I get it!" Zukus growled, jamming his stinger into the seam.

"Maybe if it were just for us, then I might be inclined to agree with you. But some of us have offspring we need to feed and there's no telling how long it'll be before we find food again."

"It just a few humans and their warriors, we're losing a lot for getting so little back." Zukus worked his stinger back and forth as he tried to pry the hatch open.

"Kailob said every drop of blood counts," Ilzbe replied, to which the other ariados rolled their eyes. "Maybe look at it this way, the more we lose, the more food for the rest of us and our offspring." Ilzbe's piercing glare and clicking mandibles silenced the dissention within the ranks.

"Now when Zukus finally pries that damn thing open, remember what I told you."

"String shots only." Everyone groaned in unison.

"Excellent, now could somebody please tell the others to kill that thing." Ilzbe motioned with her head towards the darting figure of Staravia. A group of ariados further down the strand had been dedicated to keeping the flying Pokémon busy and at bay. Though if truth be told, their orders to avoid killing it were the only thing that had kept it alive.

"Thought you said every drop of blood counts," an Ariados echoed in a mocking tone.

"Those creatures have barely enough blood to be a decent snack and Kailob won't miss one bird. So could one of you kindly let the others know?" Ilzbe didn't mention that one of the Staravia's earlier attacks had nicked her face and anything that hindered her ability to mate with Kailob was a transgression that only death could fix. She let the question hang in the air and watched the group until one of them stepped forward and descended down to the others.

"Hey, I'm almost through!" Zukus announced. "The rest of you ready?" He looked back for confirmation.

The rest of their group nodded silently and braced themselves while their mandibles twitched in anticipation. Zukus nodded back and stabbed at newly formed gap in the metallic seam, wedging his stinger deeper before lifting with all his legs and popping the hatch off the aircraft. Luckily, half of his work had been done for him with several holes having already been punched through the ceiling.

Uza, one of the more hungry and eager ariados peeked his head in — only to immediately have his skull cleaved nearly in two by a silver blade at the end of a yellow creature from inside.

The creature darted back through the hole so quickly that no one was entirely sure what, if anything, had had happened. Their doubts were immediately dismissed when watery gurgles sounded in their midst. While a lethal blow, it hadn't instantly killed its target, leaving Uza to make wet screeches as his legs scrambled in place.

Ilzbe pushed him through the hatch where he crumpled onto the ground and elicited a few screams from inside. Uza's suffering was short-lived as only seconds after slamming into the ground he was blasted by a thin blue beam and frozen on the spot, an opening Zukus took to make his strike.

Peering inside, he could see three humans hugging the wall at the end of the room. The tallest one sported blue hair atop her head and cradled in her embrace was what he could only imagine was her offspring.

The other small human stood off to the side with the yellow creature that had brought about Uza's demise standing guard over him. The two made eye contact, Pikachu dared him to try and make any move against the human behind him. Zukus knew of electric types and considering the boost in power everyone had experienced, wanted no direct quarrel with that creature. Before the mother and child was a small, brown creature Zukus recognized as a Buneary currently in the process of freezing Uza's carcass..

"So it's between the short or tall one," Zukus mused for a moment before deciding to take the path of least resistance. By the time Buneary registered the adhesive thread, it was already too late. In a surprising feat of speed that even Zukus had to admire, Johanna shoved her daughter out of the String Shot's path and took her place.

Dawn had been his initial target, being smaller and therefore easier to reel out of the aircraft. But the promise of more meat was a prospect that Zukus wasn't about to pass up. Buneary's first instinct was to freeze the strand, but fear of flash-freezing anything — or in this case — anyone connected to it made her hesitate. Zukus leapt back, launching another String Shot from his spinneret onto another part of the aircraft and pulling himself back with his hind legs.

***

Pikachu's tail flashed into steel as he prepared to leap over and cut the strand. That was, until he saw the head of another ariados peek in through the hatch and take aim at his oldest friend. If he moved, it would leave Ash open to any attack the ariados threw at him. He froze, wondering which attacker to strike. He flashed back to the hateful words Piplup and the rest of Dawn's team had spat at him upon learning of Ambipom's death. No matter who he saved, he imagined cruel, cutting words from everyone aboard.

That moment's hesitation was all Zukus needed to pull Johanna up to the roof but she seemed to halt as if the ariados had second thoughts. At the last second, Johanna threw out her arms, grabbing one of the ceiling handholds installed in case of turbulence. Dawn's piercing scream threatened to deafen everyone in the room. The girl's arms were outstretched, as if to pull her mother back, but her body was frozen in place.

Johanna looked at her daughter's face, watched her screaming herself hoarse with tears pouring down her cheeks and a horrified expression that she had never seen in the decade of raising Dawn. That look of unadulterated fear wasn't the last image she wanted to have of her daughter but the forceful tug from the webbing on her back reminded her that harsh reality sought to make it so. Her hands were scrabbling across the ceiling for purchase, the strength of her limbs quickly waning beneath the tireless efforts of the ariados outside.

Another powerful yank nearly pulled her out of the hatch; her fingertips now the only things anchoring her to the interior. She looked to Ash and saw the shock in his eyes consumed by a fire of determination that compelled him to move. Bursting into motion, he ran across the room, vaulting the row of chairs and leaping at her, his hand reaching out towards her own.

One of the ariados took aim, only to watch the world spin when Pikachu's Iron Tail knocked its head off. A vicious pull reeled Johanna's left arm back with her right arm soon following. Ash was close enough to see the reflection in his eyes, his lips forming words that told her to grab his hand.

"Take care of my daughter."

Those were Johanna's last words before her hand gave out and her body soared out beyond Ash's reach. The boy from Pallet crashed back onto the rows of chairs as the sudden slack in his arm threw him backwards. He gritted his teeth as the awkward landing twisted his ankle, sending a white blanket of pain over everything except for Dawn's wails.

***

"Bun, seal it off, like you did with the windows!" Pikachu yelled as he landed atop one of the chairs.

Buneary stared at him blankly for a few precious seconds. "But she's out ther—"

"And she won't be the only one if you don't seal that opening with ice!" Pikachu yelled, hating himself for what he was forcing Buneary to do. He felt a shadow fall upon him; the presence of another entity registered. On reflex, he bounded off the chair and went into a spin, splitting the body of the ariados above him in two with the swipe of his metallic tail.

Pikachu was still twirling through the air when he noticed his victim's body falling around him. It was after his strike that he noticed another ariados had replaced the one he had killed. With no way to dodge whilst in midair, Pikachu wracked his brain for his next move.

Had he still possessed the connection to his element, he would've welcomed the attack; anything that came in contact with him would be dangerously electrified. Seeing as he no longer had command over his element, he would have to get creative.

Or he would've, if a rush of cold hadn't flood the room. The electric mouse landed on one of the front seats and turned to see a chandelier of ice crystals covering the hatch. Frozen in midair was the sticky thread aimed at him.

Pikachu lowered his gaze to see Buneary staring at him. Flickers of anger, sadness and pain were the most frequent, especially as the voice of her coordinator filled the room. She turned away from him to see Dawn dissolving into puddle of unintelligible whimpers. Brock slid the door open and exited the cockpit, leaving Croagunk to guard the hole in the windshield with Jessie and James.

"What ha—" Brock began before his voice faltered as he took in the scene. In the span of a few seconds, everything had changed and it wasn't hard for him to figure out what happened.

Pikachu watched Brock move past him and Ash before backpedaling to look at the fallen trainer. Ash waved him away, hisses of pain escaping as he grimaced and clutched his leg.

Brock took the hint and moved over to Dawn. He looked around the cabin one last time to assure himself that Johanna was no longer with them. A chorus of muffled screams filtered through the ice. Whether it was the Ariados, Johanna or a mixture was anyone's guess.

All the while Pikachu stared at the ice that covered the ceiling hatch. A single sentence repeated itself endlessly in his mind. "I saved the others, I saved the others, I saved the others, I sav…"

***

"I got one!" Zukus crowed, reeling the human in with his forelimbs but noting that she had gone strangely quiet and still. "A little tug like that couldn't have killed her?" he thought as he wrapped the strand around his forelimb and scuttled closer to her.

"And it looks like you're gonna be the only one," Yazeed, one of the other ariados, replied with a click of his mandibles.

"Why's th—oh!" Zukus lifted his gaze from his catch to see the spot where he'd pried the hatch open, now covered in a blossom of spiky icicles. More surprising than that was Ilzbe, who had launched her own String Shot into the interior. Whoever had sealed the hatch with ice had caught Ilzbe's attack in the process. As a result the ice traveled up its new vector and into Ilzbe's body. Her coloration was dull and dark. All moisture in her body had expanded and cracked her exoskeleton. A thin layer of frost coated her face as a pair of glassy and lifeless eyes staring back at him.

"I always pegged her as a frigid bitch, but that's just funny!" Yazeed cackled as he pointed at Ilzbe's frozen corpse.

Zukus threw him a look of somewhere between "Too soon," and "Seriously?" The look only lasted a few seconds before he sighed and nodded.

Yazeed continued, ignoring Zukus's glare. "How much you wanna bet this Kailob guy doesn't even notice she's gone?" The comment managed to get a chuckle out of Zukus before he stared at the ice crystals.

"So you wanna keep going for those humans?" His answer came in the form of Yazeed shaking his head.

"No thanks. I think I'm good. Now with Ilzbe gone, I say we pack it up and make for the woods. Word on the web says Kharzouz had himself a nice little cache. I'd say his share is more than enough to make up for whatever we're losing by leaving these humans alone."

Zukus couldn't disagree with that logic. Though he figured it didn't hurt that he'd already caught himself a human even at the cost of three other ariados.

"Got'em!" another ariados cried, catching the group's attention. Noticing everyone's stares, he pointed off into the distance where Staravia's body fell lifelessly into the sandstorm.

"Nice." The group murmured and nodded in approval until something burst out from the sandstorm and began to scream.

"Oh what now!?" Yazeed groaned as the dark figure hurtled towards the ship, barreling through river of Poison Stings. Two lights flashed around Yazeed; Gliscor's scream being the signal they needed to strike. Zukus was about to retaliate until something slammed into his head and knocked him back. Johanna's foot hung in the air for a few seconds until she scrambled back onto her feet behind Umbreon. Dark shadows misted off of Glameow's paw before swiped at Yazeed's head, slicing through his brain and throat with little effort.

Gliscor crashed into one of the ariados, clutching its head in his claws and crushing it. Another Ariados fired a String Shot at him from behind; thinking the aeroscorp's back was unguarded. In a blur of movement, Gliscor spun around and blocked the adhesive string with his beheaded shield. The ariados's head exploded in his purple claw; the rest of the body was tossed off the side of the ship.

By the time the ariados cut the line to avoid following the corpse down to the ground, Gliscor was already next to him. The ariados tried to dart away but Gliscor had already clamped onto his forelimbs. Before the ariados could even release any needles or silk, Gliscor ripped off the legs and stabbed them into the unfortunate arachnid's thorax in a single fluid motion.

Any screams that would've made it past his mandibles were forced back into his throat when Gliscor's tail slammed into his face and dropped him onto his back. Beaten and battered, the fallen ariados was far from hurting anyone for a long time; a fact that didn't seem to register with Gliscor as he continued to slam his tail into the arachnid's face, caving in its head deeper with every blow. Pieces of chitin flew into the air as he brought his claws into play; the mist around him grew denser with every spray of ichor.

"You bastards! Which one of you bastards killed him?" Gliscor roared, having no idea if the one he was pummeling into paste was responsible for Staravia's death, but in his rage, he couldn't care less. The gory display not only unnerved the existing ariados but Glameow and Umbreon as well. Zukus backed away slowly, Umbreon's yellow rings glowing in full force. Outmatched and outnumbered, Zukus looked over the edge of aircraft to the swirling sands below and decided to take his chances with the storm. At first, he lamented that he had given up his meal, but a brief glance at his forelimb reminded him that all was not lost.

He briefly planted his spinneret onto the aircraft's surface before leaping off and disappearing over the side. Johanna was about to allow herself a sigh of relief. Only to have it interrupted when the webbing on her back tightened and spun her around.

Glameow turned upon hearing her coordinator slam into the roof and slide towards the edge as if being dragged by some invisible force. By the time Umbreon registered what was happening, Johanna had already fallen away from view.

Both of them sprinted towards the edge to see the ariados hanging from a thread, hanging even lower was Johanna, dangling just above the vortex of shifting sands. Zukus quickly pulled his catch into his spindly embrace, Johanna screaming all the while.

"If he hurts a single hair on her head…" Umbreon seethed, every one of Johanna's cries another knife in her heart.

"He won't. He knows his life is forfeit otherwise. He's gonna hold her hostage until he can get away," Glameow said. She looked over the situation and added, "He's too high up to simply jump — assuming that sandstorm doesn't just tear him apart — and anything he could use to swing away from danger is too far away."

"Any attack I use would put Johanna at risk. If I cut him loose then Johanna follows him down. We don't even have a way to get down there to catch her or bring her back up here," Umbreon growled.

"There might still be a way to save her," Glameow replied before bounding away from the edge.

Umbreon turned her head towards Gliscor who was still in the process of pummeling the ariados corpses.

"Breaking them any more won't bring your friend back, darling. Right now my coordinator is about to die, and you're the only one here who can save her." Glameow motioned with a coiled tail over to where Umbreon stood. Gliscor held the ariados's lifeless husk in his claw for a few seconds, staring into its empty glossy eye before quietly nodding and tossing the head over the side to be consumed by the raging sands. He moved over to the edge with the dark Eeveelution and looked down.

"I can reach her, but I don't think I'd be able to cut through that silk," the aeroscorp replied after studying the situation for a few seconds.

"Let us handle that darling. Would you be strong enough to fly her back here?"

"I can't fly like…Staravia." The wince as he mentioned his dead teammate didn't go unnoticed by the duo. "I can glide down there and catch her, but getting back up here would require me to dip into the sandstorm to catch some air or go to ground and launch off my tail."

Glameow and Umbreon traded concerned looks for a moment.

"Rampardos said the storm should end any minute. I can keep her completely covered from the sand with my wings until then and jump back to meet you guys back here once it's done."

"That still doesn't solve our other problem. The second he sees you coming, he'll kill Johanna." Umbreon glared down at the Ariados who seemed content to calmly hang off the ship until the situation changed for his benefit.

"Couldn't we just go and get the others?" Gliscor offered.

"Two things: can you break that ice quickly without damaging the ship and do we have time? You said the sandstorm will be done soon. By the time we mobilize, he could be gone."

"I have an idea," Glameow interjected, causing the other two to look at her. "We just have to make sure he only sees our flying friend." She smirked

***

A solid minute passed until Johanna stopped screaming and sobbing. She noted that the ariados holding her hadn't tried to harm her in any way. She looked up to see her two pokémon and one of Ash's own peering over at her from the edge of the aircraft. The ariados was watching them too, hisses and clicks emanating from its mandible. A language unintelligible — at least to her human ears. All three pokémon suddenly disappeared from view.

At least for a few seconds until a dark figure darted across the sky.

The ariados glanced back and forth between the aircraft's edge and the Gliscor that veered back and flew at them. Atop Gliscor was her Umbreon, the golden rings of fur on her body glowing so intensely that they had turned from yellow to a blinding white. The Ariados hissed loudly at them and while the sound alone would've normally made her faint, Johanna steeled herself for what was to come.

Gliscor and Umbreon were only a few meters away when Glameow landed on ariados from above and swiped at his throat with a shadowy paw in one smooth motion. Johanna felt the arachnid's legs around her body loosen before she started to slip completely from his hold. The light around Umbreon's tail condensed into a series of searing stars and zipped ahead, effortlessly slicing through the ariados' adhesive strands connecting them. Gliscor rolled to face his belly towards the sky as he glided, signaling Umbreon to jump.

Johanna couldn't help but scream as she fell towards the sandstorm; the presence of her Glameow falling beside her providing little comfort. Gliscor dove down, tucking Umbreon into his left arm as he adjusted his descent to fall parallel to Johanna and Glameow. Their paths eventually crossed, with Glameow reeling herself into Johanna's embrace with her tail while Gliscor wrapped himself around Johanna's form.

Wind and grit battered Gliscor as he dove through the sandstorm, nearly throwing him off balance when he spun around to angle his tail towards the ground. The impact of the landing was surprisingly soft; enough that Johanna was pleasantly surprised that they had stopped moving. Gliscor slowly lowered himself onto the sand, coiling his tail to spring up at a moment's notice.

Just as Rampardos predicted, the storm didn't last much longer. The sand and winds settled down a minute after Gliscor's landing. The aeroscorp slowly unfurled his wings; Glameow and Umbreon darted out of the gap to take on any potential attackers while Johanna stumbled out of Gliscor's embrace to look at what was left of her town.

Johanna's gasp seemed to be the loudest thing on the planet in the all-encompassing silence that hung over the town. Umbreon and Glameow risked a glance back at their coordinator, watching her take in deep gulps of air as she advanced a few steps in one direction and then retreated in another.

The coordinator's memories filled in the smoldering ruins of her town. Like hazy ghosts, the houses reemerged whole in her mind's eye. Simulacra of friends and neighbors she had known for years and who had been there for her when she was raising Dawn wandered the streets. Craters and gouges became immaculate gardens and roads. To her, it seemed as if she were waking from a nightmare, but the bitter, burning bite of the smoke and sand-choked air reminded her that the Twinleaf she was seeing was but an illusion from her memories and that the real Twinleaf had been all but erased off the map by a horde of ariados.

She blinked as she took in the remains of her town and gaped silently as she surveyed the smoldering piles of rubble and the Ariados skittering over the wreckage. Johanna tried to wrap her head around the fact that in less than an hour, her daughter and herself had become the last survivors of Twinleaf Town and that all she knew had been burnt to the ground.

Her house exploding at that very moment did nothing to help her come to terms with the grim reality.

***

A few moments earlier...

Roark dove into Dawn's room and rolled until he hit the foot of her bed, every rotation giving him a glimpse of Geodude slamming the door behind them. A tiny part of him that wasn't utterly consumed with fear and survival was proud that he had held out against the swarm for as long as he had. His body ached from the continuous, abrupt and brutal movements he'd gone through; any energy he had left was nearly spent just getting up off the ground.

The sweat pouring out of every pore mixed with the mud that coated his skin and clothes. The mud was a last-second innovation from Geodude. For some reason the ariados were limiting themselves to String Shots when they aimed at him. Considering the rain of needles they'd unleashed against them in the beginning, Roark wouldn't have been surprised if they had simply run out of energy to keep producing that move.

Seeing as Geodude wouldn't be able to stop every attack from coming through and striking Roark, he decided to find a way to nullify it in the form of the move Mud Sport. The miner —accustomed to being showered with dust and debris from the mines — found little discomfort in being coated in a thin coat of mud, especially with the results that it provided.

Sticky strings that managed to land on him simply slipped off, the layer of wet mud giving them nothing solid to adhere to. Geodude had done the same to himself and so, in a perverse parody of a gym battle, trainer fought alongside Pokémon. The duo slaughtered a seemingly infinite swarm of ariados that stormed up to the second floor. Despite their best efforts, something was bound to give.

Geodude's punches were coming slower; Roark's slashes and strikes with his shovel grew clumsier. For every ariados they killed, another was ready to take its place. Over time, their numbers became too great and the duo were forced to retreat back into one of the rooms.

The animate geode was already piling furniture against the door but the ariados were already making their own entrances through the walls. The rock pokémon spun to face his trainer, giving him a good, long look and a tired smile. Roark's knees trembled as he pushed himself to his feet with Johanna's shovel, using it like an old man would his cane. Geodude's gaze drifted over to the window behind him and noticed that the air was free from sand.

Geodude rolled past Roark, smashed the window with his fist and quickly scanned the sandblasted base of the house and even climbed out to peer over at the roof before he swung back inside. He perched onto the windowsill and steadied himself with one hand and extended his free hand to Roark.

The gym leader got the memo and took the stony hand. He stumbled towards the window and his stomach fell upon seeing the long drop towards the sand covered ground. Roark looked back, seeing a pair of mandibles poking through the wood and decided that his chances outside were better. Geodude wrenched the shovel out of Roark's hands and threw it out the window. Roark watched it soar through the air until it sheathed itself into the sandy soil several meters away.

Before he could ask why his weapon had been thrown away Geodude grabbed him by the hand, yanked him through the window and held him aloft. Roark yelled from the sudden movement and gritted his teeth as he dangled a few meters from the ground. The rock Pokémon slowly lowered himself down from the windowsill until he was holding on with the tips of his stony fingers. By that point there was only meter between Roark's feet and the ground when Geodude let go.

Roark grunted and staggered back as the shock of the landing ran through his body but with Geodude's help, the fall hadn't been as bad as it could have been. The rock Pokémon grumbled his name and pointed at the gym leader. When Roark didn't move, Geodude lifted his finger and pointed repeatedly towards the shovel. Roark took the hint and made his way towards the tool. He was only halfway there when he decided to look back, expecting Geodude to close the distance and catch up with him.

What he didn't expect to see was an incandescent white sphere inside the window he had just escaped from. The miner put the pieces together and stopped in his tracks, taking a step back towards the house. Roark was about to scream out when a blinding white light filled his vision. A wall of force and sand then followed, slamming into him and hurling him along the sandy ground. He skidded a few meters before he came to a stop. His vision swam with black and purple dots. His stomach whirled as he threatened to spew the sand that he'd swallowed on his brief tumble.

All that was left of Johanna's house was a smoking pile of rubble. Chunks of burning rock and debris from Johanna's home rained across the ruined field of what was once Twinleaf. His balance warped and the strength in his arms spent, the act of lifting himself up with his own arms became next to impossible. Roark slumped back down to the ground and screamed.

But either it wasn't loud enough or he couldn't hear it over the ringing in his ears.

***

The earth rumbled as Onix erupted from the ground. He immediately noted the distinct lack of sand in the air. Rampardos trudged out from the remains of one of the last remaining houses that anchored the aircraft to the town.

"All that's left is the central one," Rampardos said, swinging his head over the yellow column of sand coated silk.

"I'm not sure any of my moves could cut through it, at least not without affecting the flying metal thing," the stone snake grumbled.

Rampardos was about to comment when the house where Roark and Geodude were holding out disappeared within a dome of sound and light. The sand beneath them shifted from the blast and the two were left gawking at the sight. Both of them bounded over, stopping several meters short of the actual house when they found Roark's body.

"Geo wouldn't have–" Rampardos began.

"—he would if it meant keeping Roark safe," Onix interjected, having known Geodude a lot longer than the resurrected fossil ever had.

"I hope he took all those bastards with him!"

"Not all of them!" an ariados, known by the swarm as Kailob, yelled as he burst out from the shadows and unleashed a black bolt of lightning from his horn. The tendril of Night Shade speared through Onix's stony midsection and continued into the distance. Glameow and Umbreon noticed the attack heading towards them and tackled Johanna to the ground as it slashed through where her head would have been an instant before.

The umbral bolt faded from sight by the time Umbreon looked up to see if any more attacks were coming. Rampardos retaliated on reflex, filling the field with a cone of flame that forced the ariados to retreat into the woods. Umbreon glanced back to see if Gliscor had moved out in time and felt her spirit plummet when the aeroscorp stared blankly back at her. A hole drilled through the center of his skull.

Onix and Gliscor's bodies fell at the same time and while Onix's body caused the earth to shudder, Gliscor's fall had the most impact on Johanna's aces. The time to grieve was cut short when a new choir of hisses erupted from the forest. More ariados started pouring out from the woods, launching volleys of silk as they scurried over.

Onix groaned, rolling onto what would've been considered his belly and began to rotate, only to stop when he realized Roark was not with them and had no cover from the sand. "Take Roark!" Onix coughed before his body sunk into the sand and disappeared from sight.

Rampardos moved over to the fallen gym leader, crouching slightly to pick him up as he turned and ran towards what appeared to be Gliscor, a human, and two other pokémon he hadn't seen before. Once he was close enough to them, he placed Roark on the ground and turned to face the second wave of ariados still scuttling to them.

"Any long range moves you have would be really useful right about now!" Rampardos exclaimed before using the last of his energy over the fire element to raise a wall of fire.

***

"Umbreon, Glameow, use Swift on that central strand. Aim for the base of it on the belly of the ship!" Johanna commanded, struggling to keep her voice calm. The two did as they were told, understanding the implications and the outcome and accepting them readily.

Stars flew from their tails, spinning through the air and slicing away at the thick trunk of webbing beneath the aircraft. Like a massive redwood, the tower of silk buckled and fell just as several thinner strands flew from the swarm to try and take its place. Another salvo of stars was quick to intercept the strands and keep them from reaching their target.

Roark pushed himself to a sitting position and watched as Team Rocket's aircraft moved away, gaining some distance with its newfound freedom. To his surprise, it was moving slower than he expected. He could only imagine the chaos going on inside, the conflict of emotions and interests. Or was it easy for them? To leave him and Johanna behind to save their skins? Part of him couldn't really blame them; he had done just the same with the people of Oreburgh. Another part of him couldn't help but be bitter that they were leaving him behind.

"I wasn't like you in the end," Roark muttered as he turned to see Johanna beside him. Her entire body was shaking as he gave orders, tears streaming down her face as she watched the aircraft disappear into the horizon. Rampardos's fire wall eventually died down and revealed the sea of spiders that had gathered there. Glameow and Umbreon redirected their efforts, summoning as many stars as they could muster.

***

Glameow targeted the actual ariados while Umbreon aimed at the adhesive threads being fired at them.

"Never thought it would end like this darling," Glameow said, doing her best to force some cheer into her voice.

"Same. Who would've figured I'd go down beside a cat," Umbreon replied, the poison sweat making her fur appear glossy and slick.

"How about beside a friend?"

Umbreon was quiet for a few heartbeats before allowing herself to do something she hadn't done in years.

Regardless all the chaos around them, despite the fact that their situation owed all their focus and attention, Glameow didn't miss Umbreon's smirk.

"Yeah, I could do that." The Moonlight Pokémon chuckled; the sound alone was enough to make Glameow redouble her efforts and light a tiny spark of hope that they might somehow make it through the night.

Johanna kept her focus off into the night sky; Team Rocket's ship having since disappeared from sight. She spoke the words she knew her daughter would never hear but hoped that she would always know in her heart.

"Go and be safe. You're going to have to be strong now. I love you. Momma loves you so much, sweetie." Johanna dropped to her knees and sobbed as Umbreon and Glameow inched backwards in response to the horde of arachnids. Rampardos wasn't doing much better. He was out of fire moves and having to make do with physical strikes. While one ariados was being killed, another took advantage of the opening and hit him with a String Shot.

The moment his thoroughly webbed Rampardos hit the ground, Roark had his pokéball at the ready. With his ace Pokémon gone, there wasn't much else to stand between him and the wave of ariados that realized their catch was now gone. Umbreon could only glare at the ariados that now surrounded them while those behind them were feasting on Gliscor's fallen body. Glameow risked a glance back at Johanna. Tears quietly poured down the coordinator's face as she stared blankly into the distance.

Seeing that opening, the Ariados lunged at their targets as one. In that moment, all Johanna, her Pokémon, and Roark saw was darkness.


	12. Cruise Control

Once again, a much deserved thanks to Zarrelion for his help on the chapter.

***

August 18

***

The seemingly endless expanse of the sea stretched out before them, seamlessly merging into the dark sky. No stars twinkled above them tonight; dark clouds had taken over the night sky and left them in a lightless void. James thought the inky blackness a fitting accompaniment to his mood, but found that same darkness tempting him to sleep. He technically could have given in and caught some much wanted rest; Giovanni's personal transport had an autopilot system that was doing most of the flying for him.

What concerned him was their fuel. Their desperate attempts to break free from the Ariados's silken lines and the subsequent full-throttle sprint away from Twinleaf Town burnt up most of their fuel. Even flying at the speed that was just above the aircraft's stall speed; James doubted that they could reach Kanto on the fuel alone. And running the engines solely on the Zarrel ion battery — and turning the tilt-rotor into a flying bomb waiting go to off — was an option he'd consider only if they were literally going to die in that moment.

The needle hovered perilously close to the empty end of the fuel gauge. They had been flying in complete silence for the last hour and for at least half of that time; James had been waging a war against his drooping eyelids. His eyes lazily drifted to the clock.

It was three in the morning with still no sign of dawn on the horizon.

James flinched at the thought of the aircraft exploding over the ocean and looked back at the closed door separating the cockpit and the rest of the aircraft. The last two hours had been filled with wails and sobs. Mainly from the twerpette; not that James could blame her for doing so. He'd seen what having a parent should've been like and for some time he'd experienced what many others did when he was too young to have anyone expect anything out of him.

He'd gone through the sadness and grief when his parents had faked their own death to lure him back home. Before that had happened he had thought that learning the demise of his parents would've made him happy. He'd be finally free from their oppressive shadow. But if were to be truly honest with himself, he was running away from shame.

The shame of never trying to live up to their expectations.

If they were gone the only expectations he'd have to live up to would be Jessebelle's and with James the only living heir left to inherit the estate and their fortune; he could only imagine she'd double her efforts to try and find and marry him. The planets must've aligned poorly as Jessie took that moment to reach over and touch his hand. It was meant to be a comforting gesture but the effect was akin to having the twerp's Pikachu shock him.

James flinched and pulled his hand out of the way; his heart rate soared until his eyes met Jessie's own. He reached for the mask that kept the wind from his face and turned in his seat to face her.

"Sorry…I was…somewhere else," James replied.

"Not surprising," she whispered. "Wish we could be as comfortable as him." She pointed to the bundle of sleeping fur on the floor between their seats when James arched an eyebrow.

James glanced down and couldn't help but feel a bit envious that Meowth was able to sleep after everything they went through. That was until the cat gave a distressed groan in his sleep and lazily moved his arms to fight off something in his dreams.

"Couldn't sleep?" James asked. He saw his partner shake her head.

"A lot on my mind," Jessie replied, her eyes darting briefly towards the door.

"Yeah…" James then lowered his gaze and sent the room back to relative silence.

"You know it wasn't your fault."

"That doesn't change that we left her."

"If we had gone down to get her, we probably wouldn't have made it out," Jessie said. It was a cool logical statement of truth but it still stung James to hear it.

"Tell that to the twerps," James muttered back.

"She'll be okay."

"And how do you…" James cut himself off as he remembered that Jessie wasn't the only one to have lost her mother.

Jessie thought back to when she was a little girl. When the men in dark suits came to her home and informed her that her mother had died in the snow of some far-off land. "I'd like to think I turned out okay." Jessie eventually continued. "Besides, she had a good home and she has the twerps as friends."

"I think it's exactly that reason why she won't be able to handle it as well as we have. There were other things in our lives that made us tougher, more capable of handling these rough patches but she hasn't had to deal with anything nearly as difficult."

"So what do you want to do then?" Jessie growled. "Be her therapists, give her hugs and kisses and tell her everything is going to be okay?"

Her partner's face remained passive as he spoke, "Would you have liked someone to have done that for you when you were at your lowest?"

Her anger melted away with that simple question and for a moment, she was the little girl who cried her eyes out and refused to believe that her mother would have left her to live in an orphanage.

Jessie eventually relented. "I… would've liked that," she said, her voice soft and quiet. "But we're not the people to give that to her. I seriously doubt she wants that kind of help from the likes of us."

James nodded with a sigh and turned to face the ocean. It was then he noticed something twinkle in the distance.

***

A few minutes of flying towards the light source revealed it to be a massive luxury cruise ship. James slowly circled around as if to inspect it. Much to his surprise, the ship had almost no damage to its superstructure and a few of the cabin lights were still on. He noticed that the pools and mini-golf course atop the ship were completely empty. Not surprising, given the time. Upon completing the circuit around the ship, James noticed an open helipad on the ship's stern. Since their communications equipment had been destroyed by Carnivine, he hoped that whoever was in charge understood that they wanted to land.

James placed the aircraft into a holding pattern using the cruise ship as the marker while Jessie looked around for something to get their attention. Part of him wanted to bypass the pleasantries and protocols and land, permission be damned. His Team Rocket aviation training demanded otherwise.

The most feared element aboard ship was fire. An aircraft like what he was piloting carried enough fuel to turn a ship into a floating firestorm. Even more dangerous than the wisps of aviation fuel in the tank was the Zarrel ion battery — the ubiquitous power source of Team Rocket's vehicles and equipment — onboard their craft.

As a result of their widespread use along with their enormous potential for destruction, Team Rocket instructors emphasized that anything to do with the ZIB was to be done strictly by the book. To further drive the point home, recruits were shown pictures and videos that showed the inevitably grisly aftermath of a Zarrel ion battery detonation. And yet, despite all this instruction leaving the recruits with a healthy respect — or even fear — of these powerful batteries, there were always cocksure Rocket grunts who decided to ignore the warnings that had been beaten into their heads during training.

James had seen those clips as a recruit. The one that stuck out to him currently was one where a damaged Team Rocket helicopter attempted to land on a barge.

Key word was attempted. The resultant explosion was felt over ten kilometers away.

James involuntarily shivered. He already had a death toll attached to him and the last thing he wanted to do was add to it

Apparently, just the sight of the tilt-rotor following the ship had gotten the crew's attention. The wake behind the ship vanished as the ship slowed and the helipad came alive with activity. James saw that as permission to land and he aligned his aircraft with the ship, letting the autopilot do most of the heavy lifting. He saw a large number of the crew gathered around the helipad. Those that weren't helping hold a fire hose at the ready had several fire extinguishers on hand.

James let out a sigh of relief when he finally felt the aircraft's wheels touch the platform. He slumped into his seat as he killed the engines. Sensing the lack of movement Meowth began to stir, lifting himself onto his legs and looking around.

"Whas' goin' on?" Meowth's words came out in a sleepy slur as he yawned. He stretched out as he tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

"We found a ship," James replied.

***

The next few hours were a blur for Brock once Jessie managed to rouse him and the others from their slumber. Two days of stressful situations and with barely any sleep had finally taken their toll and cast him into a dreamless slumber. Dawn had stopped crying out of sheer exhaustion and she too had fallen into a mercifully dreamless sleep. Brock was tempted to punch Jessie when she had shaken him awake but he calmed down once she told them that they had found a cruise ship and they had gotten permission to land.

In his sleepy haze, Brock didn't really process what she was saying until he noticed another light source shining through the ice covered windows and the holes in the bulkhead. After twenty or so minutes, he felt the craft start to descend, followed by the familiar jolt of an aircraft landing. Jessie slid the door open once the aircraft was fully grounded and the rotor blades stopped. A pair of paramedics and an older gentleman — whom Brock assumed was the ship's captain — waited for them at the end of the helipad.

Jessie hopped off and went straight to the man who was the spitting image of Drake, the Hoenn Elite Four dragon trainer. Paramedics were ready to assist her but she waved them off and gestured to Brock, Dawn, and Ash. They waited until all three of them stepped out of the aircraft. The moment Ash's Pikachu appeared, they backed away.

"We're going to have to ask that you put the Pokémon back in its ball," one of them said in a calm, yet authoritative tone.

"Why?" Ash demanded. He forced the sleep from his eyes and replaced them with a steely glare.

"Safety protocols." The paramedic's tone remained neutral but there was an undercurrent of steel in his voice.

"Pikachu isn't going to cause any proble—" Brock's attempts at defending Pikachu were cut short.

"I understand sir, but if you're going to board this ship, then you have to put that creature into—"

"He's not a creature! He's my best friend and he has just as much right as we do to be out here!" Ash growled. The spark of anger in him had flared into a raging inferno.

"Can't you make an exception?" Jessie begged. She turned to the older man who was wearing a naval-style uniform. The golden nametag on his uniform identified him as Captain Matthews. "They've had a really rough night. The girl just lost her mother and we've all lost Pokémon just trying to get off the mainland. That Pikachu is the only reason any of us are alive to talk to you right now."

Jessie had been able to cry on command before. It was a feat that she often attributed to her skill as an aspiring actress. Normally, all it would take was for her to focus on her memories of the orphanage and all her consecutive failures throughout her life and the tears would begin to flow. This time however she had a load of fresh new memories to draw from and it was easy — almost too easy —to get her eyes to shimmer and her vision to swim. "My Wobbuffet is dying right now and he's all I have left." She sniffled. "We've lost our homes, our relatives and our belongings. Please...don't take away what we have left."

The older man sighed and gave her a sad stare but still shook his head. "I'm sorry for your loss, but before our communications were cut from the mainland we received reports about Pokémon attacks. I am responsible for the well-being of the crew and passengers. I'll make sure that you and your Pokémon receive medical attention but your Pokémon must remain in their pokéballs until further notice."

"I'll stay here on the helicopter then." Ash sharply pivoted on his heel and headed back to the aircraft.

"I'm afraid that while you and your aircraft are on this ship, you must keep your Pokémon in its pokéball."

Ash froze at Captain Matthews's order. He whipped around and glared at the older man. The trainer's eyes smoldered with barely concealed rage.

"Just do what he says, Ash!" Dawn yelled. It was the first time she had spoken in hours.

"Take care of my daughter." Johanna's voice echoed in his ears, still so painfully fresh in his mind. Ash clenched his shaking fists until they were white; his fingernails dug into his palms and nearly drew blood. A few seconds passed before he removed the backpack from his shoulder. He reached inside, grabbed a pokéball he hadn't touched in years and pulled it out.

Ash was tempted to toss the capture device overboard in blatant act of defiance to see what Captain Matthews did, but one look at Dawn ended that line of thinking.

Brock could feel the unease of Ash and that of the staff members around them. He could understand their tension; both sides had legitimate reasons for their concerns. In all their years together and all the places they had been to, Brock had never seen anyone make Ash put Pikachu in his pokéball. But times were different now; it wasn't just them that the captain had to worry about.

Pikachu scampered over to his trainer and reached out to the pokéball in Ash's hand. Ash looked into his starter's eyes and whispered an apology. He reluctantly let the sphere slip from his fingers and into Pikachu's paws. Pikachu caught it and placed it on the ground at his feet, looking up at Ash with a weak smile.

"Pi-Pikachu, Pika-pi," Pikachu said.

"You sure?" Despite being variations of the syllables of his name, Pikachu's statement was perfectly comprehensible by Ash. It was an understanding forged by years of journeying together. And it was what made Ash's decision so difficult.

The electric mouse nodded, his paw hovering over the pokéball for a few seconds. With a deep breath, he pressed his paw to the metal button on the front of the pokéball. His body metamorphosed into to crimson energy and disappeared into the sphere. Ash could only stand and stare at the capture sphere for a few seconds before bending down to pick it up. He silently walked back towards the group.

Some of the tension dissipated from the cruise staff and Dawn, but not from Brock or the Rocket trio. Jessie traded glances with the oldest twerp and her teammates through the cracked windshield; the weight of what had just happened still registering in their minds. Ash's face was locked in a grim and anguished look as the paramedics let them pass.

Brock, Ash and Dawn were guided down a flight of stairs, then through a series of hallways and down an elevator before they finally reached the medical bay of the cruise ship. Jessie, James and Meowth had not come down with them. Brock could only assume they were explaining the situation to those in charge.

The doctors there practically interrogated him. He hoped he had given them coherent answers, but in the daze of exhaustion, he wasn't even sure what they had asked of him. Once everyone had been examined and given the all clear, they asked to leave their Pokémon in the medical bay while they got some rest. Knowing it was a losing battle, Ash didn't even put up a fight and wordlessly left his pokéballs with the others and followed their guide.

They took another elevator up and were escorted to an interior cabin at the stern of the ship. The room's defining furniture was a single blue love seat hugging the western wall and facing a large wooden cabinet. A flat screen television mounted on a metal arm was tucked into the cabinet.

On the northern wall was a pair of bunk beds. Next to the ladders were two doors that led to a bathroom and a closet respectively.

Ash shambled forward like a zombie, climbing up the white ladder and crashing onto unceremoniously the top bunk. Dawn made no attempt at climbing the ladder and settled for crawling into bottom bed where she immediately curled into a ball. Brock climbed up to the bunk atop Ash's own and collapsed onto his back. He could hear Dawn's ragged breathing every so often before they evened out into soft snores. The breeder could only stare at the ceiling above him and wonder whether or not their luck had finally changed.

***

When he fell asleep after that thought was anyone's guess, but that he had fallen into the deepest sleep he had ever been in. He wasn't sure what jolted him awake in the darkness but he figured it might've had something to do with his body being covered in sweat and tangled in moist sheets.

Brock slumped back onto his bed and debated whether or not he should start sleeping again but the dread of what had happened rendered sleep a distant memory. The only light source in the room was a yellow light filtering through the peephole in the door at the south end of the room. In his current state, time had no meaning. He wasn't sure if he had slept half an hour or half the day. The hunger in his belly was poor indicator, considering how late they had stayed up and how long it was since their last meal.

Brock moved over to the door as quietly as he could, not wanting to wake Ash and Dawn from whatever sleep they'd be able to get. He slid his hand along the door until his hand brushed against the cold metal of the handle.

A line of light pushed through the darkness and grew wider as he slowly opened the door. It took Brock some time to adjust to the brightness but he eventually popped his head out into the hallway and looked around.

An ornate red carpet with black and bronze swirling floral patterns covered the floor. The walls were a speckled beige, broken only by pink doors that led to other cabins or supply closets. There seemed to be no end to the hallway and no people in sight, at least until he turned and saw what he could only assume was a guard leaning against the wall opposite their cabin.

"Evening." The forced cheer in the man's voice gave away the fact that the rather be anywhere else on this boat than guarding a few kids.

"Evening?" Brock echoed, his tone tinged with uncertainty. "What time is it?"

"It's a quarter past seven," he replied with a glance at his watch. "I'm Officer Marsh. I'll be here to assist you during your time on the Prism Scale." Brock couldn't help but note that the way he said "assist" sounded like a euphemism for "watch".

Officer Marsh continued. "If there's anything you need, I'll have someone from the staff get it for you. Captain Matthews has decided that you and your friends won't be charged for the room or any room service concerning meals while on your stay, within reason. Telecommunications and Internet are currently down for the time being, but feel free to use the television and order any food for the movies we have listed."

Brock could tell that Officer Marsh knew exactly why communications and Internet were down and was aware that the breeder knew the cause as well.

"Do you have any questions?" he added when Brock's only response was a silent stare.

"And if we want to leave the cabin and see other parts of the ship?" Brock asked.

Officer Marsh maintained his plastered smile, though the slight wrinkle of his brow and the slightest twitch in the corner of his eye gave his irritation away. "Captain Matthews has asked that during your stay aboard the Prism Scale that you remain in your cabin until further notice. We'll try to make your stay as comfortable as possible."

Brock's expression remained neutral but a flash of anger ran through him. He couldn't help but feel like a prisoner. At least it beats being dead. He thought.

Officer Marsh continued. "In the event of an emergency, you'll hear an alarm ring seven times, signaling you to head to your muster station where you can take one of the life boats off the cruise. If you show these cards to one of the staff they will help guide you to your station. There's also life jackets in your cabin's closet that you can bring with you. Should you happen to forget, they will be provided to you at the muster station." Officer Marsh then produced the requisite ID cards.

Brock stared at the cards in the officer's hand and took them before giving a curt nod and disappearing behind the door. Once it was closed behind him, Brock turned around and slid down until he was sitting on the floor. He could still hear Ash and Dawn's snores drifting out from the darkness of the room. A large part of him didn't want them to ever wake up; as long as they were asleep, they could remain in their land of dreams and forget about what they had gone through.

As the memories floated back to the surface of his thoughts, he could feel a chilling dread seep into the marrow of his bones. Brock tried to convince himself it was all a dream; that he had somehow imagined it all. A product of an overactive imagination. But the more and more he thought about what lied beyond his door, he knew he couldn't deny the circumstances that brought them there.

Brock's hands reached up to his face in a pitiful attempt to block out the world. As his hands slid down his face he felt his hair matted to the surface of his sweat-slickened brow. He looked around and saw the door the left of the bed leading to what he assumed was the bathroom. Opening the door revealed a toilet, a sink, a mirror and a shower.

Normally, Brock would've found it cramped but after everything that had happened he was grateful there was running water. He undressed and stepped in to the glass tube that was the shower and slid the doors close behind him. The showerhead was detachable, so he grabbed it and aimed it to floor before turning on the water.

The cold water hitting his feet woke him up a bit until it started to heat up as he turned the dial. Locking the showerhead back into place, he let the water pour onto his head and reveled in the warmth that spread down his scalp and over his face. He felt the soothing liquid slide down his back and the rest of his body before disappearing down the drain.

Brock stood motionless for several minutes, leaning forward until his head pressed against the wall. He closed his eyes and tried to lose himself in the sensation and the sound of the water; steam was already starting to rise from the floor and fog the glass. Opening his eyes he saw the water at his feet darkened. Layers of grime and sweat he'd accumulated over the last few days were finally being washed off.

"If only my memories could do the same," he muttered.

Here he was, enjoying a hot shower while Roark and Johanna's bodies were back at Sinnoh. Brock's hand hovered over the knob that controlled the temperature. He pondered if making the water as cold as possible would absolve him of his sins.

"I don't deserve this," he whispered, slamming his fist into the wall before letting it slide down to his side. The idea that Johanna and Roark had died to allow them these simple pleasures made him feel sick. He tried to assuage his guilt by reassuring himself that the two would have wanted the group to enjoy even the simplest of pleasures. All that did was make him feel even worse.

Brock didn't have to confront Jessie or James about what they did because a part of him agreed with their choice.

"Wasn't it their choice for us to go?"

Brock knew that something was anchoring the aircraft to the ground; Gliscor and Staravia had been sent out to free them. Some time after Johanna had been taken, they were finally free. Ash had hoped that Staravia and Gliscor had found a way to dislodge them and would follow them out to sea to rejoin them but the two never appeared.

They had either succeeded and fallen in battle. Or died trying. Maybe Roark and Johanna had found away to cut them loose, staying behind to make sure they could get away.

"You need to get out of here now! I'll do my best to hold them off!"

Roark's final words echoed in his mind. Brock felt his eyes beginning to burn as the shallowly buried memories resurfaced. Brock gritted his teeth and punched the shower wall repeatedly, not loud enough to make any real noise or do any real damage but enough for his knuckles to hurt from the abuse. He understood Johanna's position; he himself had to assume the role of parent for his brothers and sisters for many years. Were it his life versus theirs, he would trade it to make sure that they had a future.

"I just hope I have a family to come home to," he muttered.

Amidst the water running down his face, no one would've been able to make out the tears streaming down his eyes.

***

Ash was the next to wake up by the time Brock had finished showering and dressed. He gestured towards the bathroom, steam curling out from the open door. The trainer from Pallet said nothing as he walked past him and closed the door. Brock slumped into the blue love seat along the wall. Soon, the patter of water issued from the bathroom.

He was starting to get hungry and he figured Ash and Dawn would eventually start feeling the same way. Knowing Ash's stomach, the act of finding something that he would eat wasn't going to be difficult. The hard part would be coaxing Dawn to get something —anything — into her system.

If the siege on Hearthome had made her lose her appetite, then he'd hate to think what the previous night had done to her. Brock's siblings had been picky eaters and he'd learned a few tricks to get them to eat their meals, especially veggies. But he had to remind himself that Dawn wasn't his sister, no matter how much he saw her as such. Convincing her to eat felt like an entirely different dimension of difficulty. One that he didn't look forward to taking on.

He walked over to the television cabinet and pulled out one of the shelves. Neatly arranged on the wooden shelf were several brochures of offshore excursions and event schedules inside. Eventually he came across a menu and read through it a few times before settling on what to order. Rather than call room service and risk waking Dawn, he wrote down their orders on the provided notepad and handed the sheet to Officer Marsh.

The food arrived forty minutes later and by that time, Dawn was awake and Ash had finished showering. Brock's attempts at trying to cheer either of them up were met with grim indifference. He watched them eat their food but they didn't look like they were really tasting it. At first, Dawn picked at her meal but her hunger ended up winning out.

The following silence — broken only but the soft clatter of silverware — was becoming so stifling that Brock had to find something the shatter it. He grabbed the remote control and turned on the TV, filling the room with music and voices. Dawn and Ash flinched at the sudden noise before turning to see if there was news of the outside world.

Brock didn't have the heart to tell them that the chances of that happening were slim to none, but kept flipping through channels to humor them. Most of what was on consisted of movies of various genres with cartoons mixed in. Brock eventually settled on a channel dedicated to events that happened on the cruise.

There was a segment where Ricky — the cruise director — was animatedly going over the day's earlier cannonball contest at the swimming pools on the top deck. The highlights of the contest were displayed and along with the delivery of his lines and his antics, all managed to evoke a small smile from the breeder. Brock turned to Ash and Dawn. Both of them wore scowls overflowing with disgust and anger.

On the screen were people of all colors and ages laughing and smiling; all blissfully unaware of the death and destruction going on in the mainland. What had been meant as a distraction had become a disgusting mockery of their trials. Brock quickly turned the TV off before he asked if they wanted to watch something. Without a word Ash stood up from where he sat at the edge of the bed and started heading towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Brock asked.

"Outside." Ash's reply was cold.

"Why?" Brock's tone was a bit sterner than he had intended, but he pressed on.

"I'm tired of being in this room." Ash was a boy of action; sitting still and doing nothing made him agitated.

"Ash…we can't leave the cabin. At least not yet."

"What're you talking about?" Venom crept into Ash's voice. His frown deepened when Brock shook his head.

"They've got a security guard in the hall making sure we stay inside."

"Why!?" Ash yelled. "We're not criminals! We haven't done anything wrong!"

"Well maybe…" Brock yelled back before catching himself and calming down. "Maybe it's because we know about what's going on out on the mainland and they don't want to create panic on the boat."

"I won't tell them anything."

"You and I both know that, but they probably don't want to take any chances."

"They should know?" Ash crossed his arms which elicited another frustrated groan from the breeder.

"You're probably right, Ash. They should know." Brock's reply was chilly. "But telling them now isn't going to make things better. What could they possibly do out in the middle of the ocean?"

"We need to go back." Dawn's voice was barely above a whisper. A pair of pointed stares were all she got in response.

"Dawn…" Brock was about to ask her why but he had an idea.

"My mom is still back there." Her hands wrung the ends of her skirt as she desperately fought to contain the maelstrom of emotions raging within her.

Although all evidence pointed to Johanna and Roark having died back at Twinleaf; Brock and Ash knew better than to disagree with Dawn in her current state. Neither of them wanted to ask about how she knew her mother was still alive. Technically, none of them saw Johanna die. And for all they knew, it was her efforts that allowed them to escape the ariados. Maybe she had gotten away once they were free. They could argue about the what-ifs for the duration of the cruise. But until they went back to Twinleaf, they couldn't be sure.

"Dawn, your mom—" Ash stopped cold at the sight of Dawn's tears rolling down her cheeks. He took a deep breath and continued. "She…when I reached for her, she told me to take care of you. I promise that we'll go back as soon as we can. Brock's…right. We don't have a way of getting back there while we're on this boat."

"What about the plane-helicopter thing we were on?" Dawn asked. She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.

"The fuel, Dawn." Brock found his perfect moment to enter into the conversation. "We're on this boat in the first place because James wasn't sure if we had enough fuel to even make it over the ocean to Kanto. Even if we tried to go back to Sinnoh; we might not even make it back at the rate that this boat has been moving."

"As soon as I find out what's happening in Pallet town, I'll find a way for us to get back," Ash said.

Brock resisted the urge to comment on the nature of making promises that you couldn't keep. Dawn needed to hear this right now; it would give her something to work towards and help her through this difficult time.

A few seconds passed before Ash broke the silence again. "Where's Team Rocket?" He looked around the room as if expecting them to emerge from the closet or bathroom.

"Probably in the same situation as us," Dawn replied, wiping away the tears with a pillow she hugged against her chest.

"Maybe there's a way to talk to them," Brock said aloud, looking at the phone and then to the door. He walked over to the door and peeked through the peephole before opening it. He had expected to see Officer Marsh, but saw that a new guard had taken his place. Brock hoped this new guard would give them more leeway.

The new guard had the same police-style uniform and cap that Officer Marsh wore. Dirty blond hair peeked out from underneath his cap as his green eyes stared off into some distant memory as he stroked the stubble on his chin.

"Excuse me," Brock said after a fake cough.

The officer turned and looked with him with a smile. "I'm Officer Davies. I'll be taking over for Officer Marsh for now. Can I help you?"

"When we landed on the boat we were with other people. I know we can't leave this room, but is there a way for us to speak with them?"

"I'm pretty sure there is. Let me find out what room they're in and get back to you."

Brock nodded and retreated back inside, explaining what had happened to Dawn and Ash. Within a few minutes they heard a knock on the door with the guard giving them the number to Team Rocket's room and instructions on how to contact them.

Brock quickly went over to the room phone and dialed in the number. He nervously fiddled with the phone cord as he waited for someone to pick up.

He let loose an involuntary sigh of relief when he heard a click on the other end.

"Yes?" Jessie's voice radiated uncertainty.

"Jessie, it's me, Brock," the breeder said into the handset.

The line was quiet for a few seconds before he heard James's voice in the background, asking who was calling. A muffled mention of "the twerps" made it through the line despite Jessie's efforts to cover the receiver.

"How…are you?" Jessie asked. The words sounded foreign when directed at him.

"We're…okay," Brock replied. He found it downright surreal that he was having a relatively cordial conversation with the Team Rocket operative who had tried so many times to steal their Pokémon. "Do you know what's going on? They won't let us leave our cabins and they've got a guard outside making sure we don't try."

"That's just part of the agreement."

"Agreement?" Brock asked

"We spoke with the people in charge and explained the situation. Apparently they've been cut off from the mainland since yesterday. Before they lost contact, they got an idea of what was happening and they've been on high alert since then. They're trying to keep everything that happening out there hush-hush until they get close enough to their destination and send out a boat to see if things are safe before actually docking."

"Where is this boat heading to?"

"Some tropical island region called Alola. Never been there but I'm sure it's nice. I'd kill to soak some rays and get myself a mart—-Okay James! Relax, I'll tell them!" Jessie sighed before starting up again "Where was I?"

"They'll let us stay here free of charge as long as we don't abuse their generosity," Brock said.

"Anyways, after everything we told them last night, they figured it was the least they could do. We're not going to be here long. The route they're taking gets us just close enough to make it the rest of the way to Kanto. Unless you want to stay. In the meantime, they want to keep up the illusion that everything is okay."

"How does nobody know about what's happening!?" Brock failed to keep the shock out of his voice.

"Without Internet access or telephones, there's almost no way to get any information outside of this boat. Only a select few members of the staff know about what's going on and they can write off the incidents that've happened as some freak accident."

"Incidents?" Brock twirled the cord around his fingers.

"This is a specialty luxury cruise with one of the main rules being that you can't bring your Pokémon on board unless you're willing to pay for them based on their size and typing and are okay with only letting them out only in certain parts of the boat. Not a lot of people were willing to fork over the extra cash to bring their Pokémon with them and those that did had smaller Pokémon not trained for battling. Apparently no one died when the Pokémon on this boat started going nuts and the amount of damage they caused wasn't very serious."

"So how long are we going to be here then?" Brock asked.

"James figures the time we've already spent on the boat should is enough. This boat is cruising a few kilometers from the coast of Kanto and will keep doing so for another day or so. We could leave now, but we have one more day before we're too far from the coast. We also asked the captain if he would let us know when we're close enough so we can depart. I know being stuck in a cabin isn't best way to go on a cruise, but it beats having to fight for our lives."

Brock's only reply was to nod as Jessie outlined their plans. "So I guess you guys are stuck in your rooms too?"

"Pretty much, but it's by far the nicest place we've been imprisoned in. I say sit tight and relax while it lasts."

"We'll try." Brock placed the phone back in its cradle and turn to face his younger companions. Within a few minutes he relayed the information and with little else for them to do, he suggested that Dawn might feel better after a shower. She didn't put up much of a fight and made her way to the bathroom.

Half an hour passed before Brock decided to check on Dawn who had spent more time in the shower than both Ash and him combined. Dawn eventually left the bathroom. She was dressed in a fresh set of clothes with her wet hair woven into a braid. She was about to say something when they all felt the cabin shift slightly.

"What was that?" Dawn asked, the fear in her eyes growing.

"Probably just a rough wave." Brock's tone betrayed the skepticism in his words. With no windows to the outside, they had no way of knowing how rough the waters actually were.

"Brock, you don't think it is gonna be like the S.S. Anne?" Ash asked.

Brock started to shake his head but stopped, his face paling as he did so.

"S.S. Anne?" Dawn asked.

"Four years ago in the Kanto region, Ash, our friend Misty and myself were invited onto a cruise ship," Brock said. "What we didn't know was that it was actually a trap by Team Rocket to steal the Pokémon of everyone onboard. Everyone managed to fight them off, but we entered a storm which ended up capsizing the ship. Though we're on a bigger ship so that might not happen this time."

Brock's ending words were quickly undermined when the cabin shifted even more violently and the lights began to flicker.

Dawn struggled to find her footing as the boat leveled itself. Ash was gripping the edge of the bed he sat on until his knuckles were white. Cries from the neighboring rooms filtered through the walls.

Ash nearly leapt across the room when their telephone rang. Brock turned and scrambled to pick it up.

"Hello?" he said, fumbling slightly as he tried not to drop the handset.

"Brock?" James's voice came through the handset.

"James, do you know what's going on?"

"No. Not yet. But I think we both know it's not good. Did your guard leave yet?"

"What? I don't know. So, wait...yours left?" Brock turned away from the phone and covered the receiver with his hand. "Ash, go check and see if there's an officer still outside."

"Ours left a few minutes ago. It looked like he was contacted and just up and left us. Whatever is going on is more important than watching our cabin."

"There's a bunch of people outside but no one that looks like a guard," Ash called back after closing the door.

"I think it's time we made for the tilt-rotor," Brock said.

"I think you're right. We're on one of the upper decks near the front, what about you?"

"I'm not entirely sure but I think we're near the back. How about we just meet you at the helipad?" Brock replied. The ship rocked even more violently than before, forcing Brock to use his free hand to steady himself. Another round of screams emanated from the hallway.

"Meowth and Wobbuffet are still down in the medical bay," James said.

"Our Pokémon are down there too. We'll head down and grab them for you. Get the tilt-rotor ready and we'll meet you at the helipad."

"Sounds like a plan." The line then disconnected just as lights in their room flickered. Brock wasn't sure if James hung up or if the shipboard communications systems had failed.

"Okay guys, we'll grab everything we need and make for the medical station. We're gonna pick up our Pokémon as well as Team Rocket's and make our way to the helipad at the front of the ship," Brock said as he started putting on his shoes.

Dawn was shaking in place but eventually nodded and started gathering her things into her bag.

"There's some lifejackets in the closet. Think we'll need them?" Ash asked, holding up what looked like an rectangular block of plastic covered foam.

"Let's take them anyway," Brock said as he turned around to scan the room for anything else they would need. "And pray we won't need them," he added under his breath.


	13. Dearly Departed

Thanks to Zarrelion for his additions and assistance on this chapter.

***

August 18 - Cerulean City

***

Ash, Brock or anyone else who's reading this, don't stay in the city if you want to survive. My sisters and I have—

Misty's pen hovered over the paper. Every time she touched it onto the surface in an attempt to write the next word, she found herself pulling back, uncertain as to where to start.

My sisters and I have—

Survived our Pokémon going crazy and trashing our gym and home?

Lived while everyone else in Cerulean City died?

Spent our last few nights beneath the surface of our pool while Zubat swarmed above us?

Misty shook her head and dropped the pen, lifting her elbows onto the table while the heels of her palms rested on her forehead. Her vision started to swim; every intake of breath evoking a shudder as memories of the last three days played in her head.

Psyduck's head had exploded, coating the walls and staining the pool with gore. The other Pokémon thrashed in the bloodied pool. Jets of water slashed through the air like aquatic blades, slicing apart anything they touched, be it concrete, metal or flesh. And when it seemed the chaos had ended...the chirping black cloud came that night, shredding any living thing it surrounded.

"But if it hadn't been for Psyduck, I would've never made it to the pool." The bitter reality resurfaced in her mind. When the Zubat had poured in through the windows, they opted to go for the floating corpse of the Duck Pokémon. which gave her enough time to dive into the pool. Luckily, for her and her sisters, the water effectively blocked echolocation, rendering them invisible to the sightless Pokémon.

Using the rebreathers they typically used for their water shows, they spent their last two nights beneath the bloodied water with their Pokémon. Even though Psyduck's remains — including the bits of tissue that bobbed on the reddened pool — had been completely devoured by the swarm, there was still the psychological disgust of swimming in that pool. But all that was forgotten when they stared up at the roiling cloud of Zubat above them.

Come dawn, they would retreat back to the caves of Mount Moon, allowing Misty and her sisters to crawl out and pass out onto a bed. Even when they did manage to eventually sleep from sheer exhaustion; it was short and restless, filled with nightmares of not getting into the water in time or the Zubat somehow bypassing their aquatic defense.

Misty picked up her pen, now knowing what the priority was.

My sisters and I have survived in Cerulean City by staying underwater in the pools of our gym at night. Every night, the Zubat from Mt. Moon come to hunt. They killed everyone in town and the four of us are all that's left. If you absolutely have to stay here, then take some of the rebreathers in our gym and use the pool; the Zubat can't detect you if you're underwater. There's a bunch of food left over in some of the houses; hopefully it hasn't all gone bad by the time you arrive. My sisters and I are taking some gear and a car from the police station. You might want to do the same once you're ready to leave, but I urge you to leave something for whoever stumbles into this city in the future as we have done for you.

"Whether or not anyone actually has the heart to do it is another question," Misty mumbled and stared at the paper.

"Hey Misty, are you, like, ready?" Lily asked from the door. The younger redhead was so absorbed in her task that she flinched at the sudden noise.

"Almo—whoa!" Misty's voice trailed off and her eyes widened as she turned around. The older redhead was clad in full black and dark blue police tactical gear. A riot shield and a combat helmet with mirrored visor perfectly complemented the armored uniform and greaves she was wearing.

"What!? Do I look frumpy? I feel frumpy! This outfit is, like, hugging me in all the wrong places!" the red-haired Sensational Sister exclaimed.

"You look fine, Lily. You look, dare I say it, cool," Misty replied, hoping that would be enough to sate her sister's bruised ego. "Let's just hope that all the places it's hugging will be enough to save you from a Pokémon attack."

Lily gave a nod and watched her sister move towards the copy machine they normally used to send fliers for shows they were doing. "So Daisy sent me to pick up our Pokémon from the pool and wanted me to come and get you. The car's loaded and we've got a police outfit for you as well. Daisy also told me to give you this." Lily pulled a sleek semiautomatic pistol from the holster on her belt and handed it to Misty, making sure to keep the muzzle pointed in a safe direction as she did so.

Misty lifted her gaze from the stacks of flyers being spit out by the copier and saw the weapon being offered to her. Her reply was a withering stare. "That's not gonna stop the Zubat," Misty replied, making no attempt to reach for the weapon and returning to her work of copying the warning messages.

"We're hoping that when we leave here we won't have to deal with the Zubat but there might be other Pokémon out there," Lily replied, once more offering Misty the gun. Misty sighed and took it, noticing the heft and its cool metallic surface.

"Heavy, right?" Lily's timing made Misty wonder if she could somehow read her mind as she handed the gun back.

"Let's hope we won't have to use it." Misty sighed, grabbed the stack of papers and made for the door. Lily followed her out but stopped when she saw her sister heading the wrong way.

"Misty, the police station's back there." Lily pointed behind them.

"I wanna leave these warnings around town, just in case someone comes here and doesn't know about the Zubat. If we can at least keep our city from being the cause of death of more people, then I'll be able to sleep better. I'll at least know that I tried," Misty said as she hugged the stack of papers to her chest.

Lily smiled and sighed, beckoning her sister to her for a hug. Misty held her place for a few seconds before shuffling over and moving into her sister's embrace.

"You know we're, like, proud of you, right? The little sister we saw leave for two years never came back. Lily says you turned out a lot like mom. Probably helps that you had Togepi with you. I, like, miss the little guy," Lily said.

"Me too," Misty whispered, trying to keep her voice as low as possible.

I was really happy you came back to stay. I'll admit, I won a nice bit of money."

"Money?" The seeming non sequitur caused Misty to look at Lily with an expression that mimicked that of her Psyduck.

"Violet totally bet you'd end up with the squinty-eyed guy and Daisy totes thought you'd hook up with that kid in the cap," Lily replied.

Misty practically pushed herself away from her sister. Her expression suddenly changed from Psyduck to Primeape as her face reddened with a mixture of embarrassment and rage. "You actually bet who I'd hook up with!?" she shouted.

"Actually I bet you wouldn't have the guts to get with either of them," Lily replied as she hopped away from an awkward kick by her sister.

"I can't believe you three! Okay first of all, Brock? Eww! If you had any idea of what Brock is like around girls you'd know we could never be a thing!"

"He was fine when you came back for the mermaid show. Violet thought his whole tall, dark and handsome look would charm you over," Lily said.

"Yeah, no. Never in a million years!"

"What about the kid with the Pikachu? Ashton or something?"

"Ash!"

"Yeah, him. We, like, thought you were awfully chummy with the kid, and who knows what can, like, happen in two years" The older redhead smirked.

"He and I…Ash isn't really…look, didn't you say Daisy wanted us back soon," Misty sputtered as her face started to match the color of her hair.

"I didn't, but you're probably right. Daisy found her action gloves from that old movie she did and is doing that method actress thing again. I doubt any of us are getting a chance to drive the car." Lily sighed, having had her fill of teasing.

"High Speed Hanna?" Misty exhaled, grateful for the change of subject.

"Yeah. She loves that character. I think she was even planning on making a sequel so she could play her again."

Misty nodded and kept walking, recalling how Daisy had a penchant for method acting and falling in love with the people she became.

"How do you plan on hanging these?" Lily asked, making her way to the motorcycle they had "appropriated" from the police station.

"Corsola's spikes," Misty replied matter-of-factly as she hopped into the sidecar. "Let's go from the edge of town and work our way inwards until we hit the police station and then meet up with the others."

"Let's make it fast then," Lily said as she revved the engine and they sped off into the street.

Misty was silent the entire ride, trying to convince herself that she would return to Cerulean. And that things would be normal again. Psyduck's happy and stupid face flashed into her mind. The thought alone was enough to make her wince.

"Okay, so maybe things won't be the same as they used to," she thought as she looked at the stores rushing past them. She could see phantoms of her younger self and her sisters; the walks they would take down the street. She looked away as her vision started to swim and closed her eyes. They quickly scattered the warning notes around the city before working their way back towards the center.

When the duo met up with the other half of the Sensational Sisters, they bundled into the car and drove off, leaving Cerulean City at the mercy of the Zubat that would be swarming over the city in a few hours.

No one dared look back at the abandoned metropolis that once bore the nickname of "The Floral Lagoon City".


	14. Surf In Turf

Brock knew things were going to get worse when the alarms started sounding in the halls. The rumble of dozens of people frantically making their way through the halls made their room tremble. Ash was about to reach for the door when Brock stayed his hand.

"Not yet, let's wait for it to die down a bit. Besides, we're not heading to the same place as everyone else."

Ash nodded and looked to Dawn, moving over to be at her side. Brock looked through the peephole, seeing the last few stragglers sprinting with whatever belongings they were able to carry. He motioned for Ash and Dawn to come closer as he opened the door and made his way outside. The hall was deserted, save for fallen articles of clothing and trinkets that had come loose in the mad dash to safety.

The sudden lurch from the boat told them they shouldn't stay put for too long. Every rock of the boat made their steps alternate between feeling lighter to heavier. Between the constant shifting of the boat, the flickering from above and the flashing emergency lights by the floor, it was a miracle that they made it out of the hallway as quickly as they did. Each of them gripped the wooden railing along the wall with each step to avoid stumbling in what felt like an endless expanse of hall.

Eventually the hall opened up to the elevators and the stairs to the other floors. A large vertical touchscreen panel shimmered to life with the lights. The words "Deck 6" were the only things Brock could make out. With the rocking and the power on the fritz, Brock didn't trust the elevators to bring them down safely.

"We're taking the stairs," Brock said, making his way down as quickly as he could, Ash and Dawn offering no arguments. After two flights down they started to see people make their way to the side of the ship, the remaining staff shepherding the last few stragglers to their muster stations. Children were crying, clinging to their parents as the crowd inched along the path set down by the crew. Others were laughing, desperately trying to lighten the mood for those who scowled at the cruise staff.

"-ryone please proceed calmly to your mus-

"-ommy I'm sca-"

"-etter get a refun-"

"-appen to all of our lugga-"

"-uck is the captain in all of thi-"

In all the chaos, the crew either didn't notice the trainer trio break away from the crowd and go down another level or were too preoccupied with the rowdy people in front of them to do anything about it.

The din of panic lessened with every floor they descended, though the same could not be said for the flickering lights and the swaying. They eventually reached the first deck and looked around for any signs of the clinic. A long and empty hallway stretched out before them from all sides. Their heads darted back and forth between the halls, looking for some kind of map or sign to point them in the right direction.

"Do you guys remember how we got to the elevators from the clinic?" Brock asked, hoping Dawn and Ash had answers.

"Weren't they supposed to bring us our pokémon when we went to the muster station?" Dawn asked.

"We have another way off this boat so we're not going to the muster station. With everything going on, I don't think they'll be bringing it to the helicopter pad, otherwise why give us these cards. We're trying to grab our pokémon and head out before they try and take them to the muster station."

Before they could answer the sound of rapid footfalls immediately drew his focus back to the hall behind him. Brock had expected to be confronted with another security guard or someone from the cruise staff, his mind already readying an excuse or lie they would need to justify being on this floor. What he hadn't expected to see was a tourist couple heading towards them.

In that moment, Brock forgot all about their situation, as well as the horrors he had witnessed in all of the last day. His love goggles instinctively activated at the sight of the beautiful girl approaching them. In less than a second his mind had processed all of her features and immediately went to work on creating a suitable pick-up line in order to woo her.

"Should I make mention of her gorgeous eyes, shall I describe them as pools of amber? Or maybe compare her stunning, flowing golden hair to the radiant rays of the sun? Maybe a compliment to her lovely outfit?" He considered as he studied her sky blue strapless dress, his gaze lingering on the sweetheart neckline that showed off a modest amount of cleavage. With Croagunk nowhere to be seen, and with Dawn and Ash having little to no track record of stopping his advances, there was nothing to keep him from professing his eternal and undying love to his future wife.

The fantasy lasted another second until it came to a screeching halt, crashed, and burned at the sight of a golden band around her ring finger. Brock's vision returned to normal, allowing him to become painfully aware of the man that ran alongside the blonde, with a matching ring on his hand as well. The man was a foot taller than him with piercing hazel eyes and a dirty blonde hair that extended into his full beard. He filled out the bright yellow T-shirt, muscles bulging out of the sleeves.

"Are you guys looking for the clinic too?" the woman asked. The mere mention of their destination managed to drag Brock out of his wounded stupor and back to the task at hand.

"Yes, we are. Do you know where it is?"

"We were on our way there to grab our pokémon," her husband added.

"Same here. If you know where it is, mind leading the way?"

"Not at all. Follow us. There aren't too many pokémon on this boat so they may have lumped our parties together," the man beckoned with his hand and broke off into a light run. Brock and the others followed, keeping pace with the couple as they made their way down several hallways.

"My name's Sarah and this is my husband, Frank," the blonde said between strides. Brock, Ash, and Dawn responded in kind, doing their best to keep up with the married couple as the room began to sway.

"What's your muster station?" Frank asked as the lights flickered and the hall seemed to lurch to a side.

"Muster…" Brock's mumbled while thoughts lingered on how long they could safely be on the boat. Even as his focus shifted back to their question his hand moved to the pocket that held his key card holding their muster station number but stopped short of grabbing it.

"It's near the front of the boat," Brock replied diplomatically, his brow furrowed in thought.

"We're not going to any of the muster stations. If I tell them that, how are they going to react? Would they want to come with us? Could we even bring them?"

Roark and Johanna's faces flashed before his eyes.

"If we could fit them, then we could take these people with us."

"Is this your first time cruising?" Sarah asked, forcing a lighthearted tone to try and lighten the mood. Her efforts were weakened significantly when a deep metallic groan rumbled through the walls, causing all of them to pause and wait for a few seconds.

"Ash and I have been on a cruise before. Dawn…" Brock turned to the bluenette who shook her head in response.

"Well I hope this doesn't ruin your view of cruises. Frank and I have been on quite a few and we've never seen anything like this before," Sarah added. Brock and Ash decidedly kept silent about their last cruise experience, wanting in no way to jinx their situation.

But it appeared the world had different plans for them.

The noise was subtle at first, so much so that its existence lurked unnoticed beneath the chorus of their footfalls, breathing, and heartbeats. Frank was the first to notice it and react, stopping so abruptly that his own momentum carried him another few inches before skidding to a complete stop. Brock and the others quickly followed suit, and while they didn't immediately notice what their guide had, the ensuing silence revealed the noise their movements had been smuggling.

It started off as a gentle and distant gurgle that quickly evolved into the sound of flowing water. A thin shimmering layer eagerly crawled across the blue floors of the hall, Brock could feel the moisture work its way through his shoes as it seeped past them undeterred. It took all of Brock's will to fight against the dread that threatened to bring them to their knees. He was finding it harder and harder not to believe that the universe was actually out to get them.

"That's…not a good sign," Frank huffed.

"We need to keep moving. The faster we get our pokémon, the faster we can get to our muster stations," Sarah reminded them.

"Now might be a good time to use those life jackets you're holding," Frank gestured towards their hands. Brock looked down and realized he'd actually forgotten that he'd been holding anything. He turned to the others and gave them a nod, watching them don their lifejackets before slipping on his.

"Let's keep moving," Sarah prompted, giving her husband a gentle nudge before moving past him and down the hall. Brock, Ash, and Dawn followed Frank and his wife. Their efforts to keep their socks dry ended up being a wasted effort within the first few steps. Slowly but surely the water level continued to rise, every step echoed by a worrying splash.

After wading for a few minutes they reached their destination only to partially wish that they hadn't. The hall was littered with bodies of tentacool and crew members alike, enough had died from both sides for sizeable mounds of corpses to have formed. Dawn gasped and Brock could practically hear the tears in her eyes beginning to form even as he kept his gaze trained on the doorway to the medical bay.

"By the gods," Sarah gasped, while Frank cursed beneath his breath. Hunks of meat floated through the water, the wet sheen of bone glistened in the flickering lights. Limbs and skull fragments bobbed gently in the water. The smell of blood filled the air along with other vile odors enough to make their bile begin to rise up their throats. Pink water sloshed against the wall of ice that sealed off the rest of the hall and grew into a darker crimson just before the door leading to the clinic.

"I knew something was wrong when I didn't feel the Link getting stronger but I didn't think it was this," Sarah whispered and grabbed her husband's hand.

Brock's jaw clenched, his imagination already quick to weave the worst possible outcome of the clinic's interior until a familiar voice reached his ears.

"I tink I smell dem," Meowth announced as he poked his head out and was joined by Pikachu, Buneary, and a Croagunk.

"Pikachu!" Ash cried, running over to his starter with his arms outstretched. The electric mouse darted over the shallow waters and leapt into his friend's arms. The sound of Ash's laughter sounded almost foreign to Brock at first, a fact that bothered him until the sight of his Croagunk bounding towards him with his Happiny in his arms erased the troubling thought. Dawn's reunion with Buneary and Piplup was no less emotional, though whether she was crying from fear or relief was hard to make out.

Wobbuffet looked like he had seen better days, with bandages and patches of cloth covering most of his body and looking more purple than blue. Segments of his body were swollen but he seemed capable enough to carry Turtwig and Chimchar in his arms, the latter casting dark looks to the surrounding water. Buizel floated into view on his back with Mime Jr. riding atop his stomach while Pachirisu rode atop Seviper's head.

"Where's Swinub?" Dawn asked, immediately noticing that she was one pokémon short, the fear evident in her voice.

"He's back in da room wit de othas who don't wanna touch da wata. Aside from a few splashes, dere all okay. Also, wat took ya so long?" Meowth huffed, his voice a mix of relief and irritation.

Sarah and Frank froze and looked at one another before looking to the trainer trio to gauge their reactions.

"Sorry, there was a lot of traffic on the way down here," Brock explained.

"Dis kinda traffic?" Meowth's tone was bitter as he aimed a paw to the pile of dead tentacool to his left. It wasn't hard to see why the cat was annoyed considering what they had to deal with while Brock and the others got to them.

"Or dis kind?" His other paw directed to the bodies of the cruise ship's security guards.

"The latter," Ash replied grimly, "except they were alive."

"Guess we know where our guard went," Brock muttered, glancing at the bodies to see if he recognized their guard among the pieces before he shuddered at the carnage and looked away.

"Th-the meowth can talk," Frank voiced aloud, earning him a round of pitying glances before they went back to ignoring him.

"Wat's wit da tourists?"

"They helped us find this place," Brock explained.

"An I'm assumin wondah twerp wants ta bring dem along?" Meowth glanced at Ash who was too busy laughing and hugging his starter.

"Do meowth of other regions talk?" Frank added, still struggling.

"No!" the group replied in unison and were about to continue the conversation until Sarah joined in.

"W-why is that meowth talking?" Sarah innocently interjected.

"I taught myself ta speak human, ya happy now!" Meowth snapped harshly enough to make Sarah flinch.

"We had enough room for Roark and…you know," Brock's voice softened into a whisper, desperately hoping Dawn hadn't been listening. Meowth took the hint and sighed, placing a paw on his charm.

"I guess dere staraptor helped out too, so fine. Dey can come," the cat relented, with the mention of their pokémon managing to shake Frank and Sarah out of their astonishment.

"Are our pokémon okay?"

"De're fine. Tanks ta dem da tentacool hesitated before attackin, which is all we needed ta take'em out. Probably da reason most of us got outta dat room witout a scratch. Just….well brace yerselves. Oi, bird brains, come on out."

A few seconds after Meowth's call a pair of Staraptor flew into view and landed on the mound of dead tentacool, the very sight of them sending a chill down everyone's spine. It wasn't that the birds themselves were frightening to look at, but something about them activated a primal fear, one that even Frank and Sarah were apparently not immune to. The couple fought through their hesitation and went over to embrace their pokémon, wondering all the while why they feared their own companions.

Ash felt a pang of sadness at the sight of the evolved form of his staravia, but quickly banished the feeling. He had to believe that Gliscor and Staravia were still alive and possibly helping Roark and Johanna get away from the ariados, or at least trying to find a way back to them.

"Where's Jessie an James?" Meowth's head swiveled back and forth but saw no sign of his teammates.

"We agreed to get you guys while they set up our ride," Brock replied, nuzzling Happiny as she hugged his chest.

Meowth nodded and bowed his head, agreeing with the logic despite secretly wishing his teammates had been the ones to come and get him. It was then that he noticed he was already waist deep in the crimson water.

"Before we go, can I getta ride on someone's back or shoulda? I can stand dis much wata but if its gonna keep gettin higha…" Meowth shivered before he could finish the thought. A few seconds passed without anyone stepping forward to offer. Brock sighed and turned around, gesturing to his back with his thumb. Meowth obliged, leaping onto the breeder's backpack and sinking his claws into the life vest.

"We should get moving," Brock announced, getting nods from Dawn and Ash.

"To our muster stations…right?" Sarah asked hesitantly.

"Ya didn tell'em? Ya wan'em ta come an ya didn tell'em?!" Meowth started yelling until Brock whirled around to face the couple.

"Brock, what is he talking about?" Frank's figure became more and more imposing as he crossed his arms and drew closer.

"Okay, so my friends and I didn't buy tickets to get on this boat, we got here last night on a helicopter...jet...thing."

"Tilt-rota," Meowth corrected.

"Anyway, two nights ago the pokémon of the Sinnoh region started attacking everything randomly before passing out. After that we saw wild pokémon attacking cities and actually killing the people there. We have reason to believe that the same is happening to other regions. Ash and I are trying to get to the Kanto region to check on our families and make sure they're okay."

The silence that ensued felt cold enough to freeze the water they were wading in. The married couple looked at each other with concern, Sarah eventually breaking the silence.

"I…I guess that would explain why they took Blitz and Windsheer," Sarah commented, looking to their Staraptor then back to her husband.

"That would also explain why the internet and any communications weren't available," Frank added grimly, feeling as though he'd been given the integral piece to a puzzle he hadn't been trying to solve.

"But if that's the case, then why did our pokémon do nothing that night?" Sarah replied, her statement successfully shattering Brock's expectations.

"Wait, hold on. What do you mean your pokémon did nothing that night? That doesn't…" Ash's mind scrambled to make sense of the new information, unsure of how any of it fit into something he was starting to be so sure of.

"Our pokémon didn't attack anyone or damage anything two nights ago. We heard about the pokémon from other people on the cruise going crazy but our pokémon never did. The cruise staff asked if they could watch over our pokémon in the med bay to make sure the same wouldn't happen, that's why they were here with your pokémon," Frank clarified.

"That night Frank and I did feel a building pressure through the Link and our Staraptor started to panic until we helped them get through it. Since then the only difference is that the Link feels stronger and every time Frank and I make eye contact with them we get a minor panic attack."

Meowth's eyes widened as their description of the sensation.

"The Link?" Dawn inquired.

"It's something we have on the Ransei region. It's a little hard to explain and-"

"-an we ain't got a lotta time," Meowth reminded. "Da point is, we ain't goin' ta da musta stations like da rest of da passengers. We're gettin off dis boat in our tilt rota an da twerps here wanna bring you along. If ya still wanna ride in a lifeboat, I won't stop ya but if ya ask me…I wouldn' take my chances out on da sea," Meowth aimed his paw to the pile of dead tentacool by the ice wall.

"Sarah, let's go with them," Frank whispered to her as he embraced his wife and felt her nod against his skin.

"Let's get a move on," Ash prompted and started walking back the way they came. Whether or not he knew the exact way back to the stairs didn't seem to deter him. There was a fire in his eyes and a smile on his lips. Brock wagered that it might have something to do with the electric starter now back on his shoulder and mirroring the same expression. After only a few steps Brock knew the trip back wasn't going to be as easy. With the water now reaching his knees it felt as though each step took twice as much energy than before.

"Ash, we might wanna return some of our pokémon to their pokéballs, some of them won't be able to fight as well in these conditions," the breeder suggested, managing to stop the trainer in his tracks.

"Right," he smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his head before reaching to his belt to grab at the pokéballs that weren't there. "Wait, where are they?"

"Oi, Sudo. Mind tossin us da pokéballs?" Meowth yelled, getting the cry of fake tree pokémon in response.

"Meowth, we could just go in and-" Brock started until the cat pokémon gave him a look that he had never seen him make.

"Trust me. If out here's lookin bad, den ya don't wanna go in dere."

Brock swallowed and decided to take his word for it, the sudden movement near the doorway catching his eye. Pokéballs flew through the air to Mime Jr. atop Buizel's stomach. The miniature imitator juggled the pokéballs for a few seconds before tossing it to the owner. It was only once Brock had returned Sudowoodo and Happiny that he noticed Dawn and the way she looked at her pokéballs.

Ash had suggested that she leave Buneary and Piplup out since they could fight in this setting but Brock could see the look Dawn was giving her pokémon and understood her dilemma. If the last day was anything to go by, whatever pokémon she picked to keep out might not live to see morning.

Tears started to form before she scrunched her eyes close and took deep breaths to steady herself. She was tired of crying, but she was also tired of losing people and pokémon she cared about. Having more pokémon out increased her chances of survival but also increased the risk the pokémon she brought out could get hurt and die. Having too little left her defenseless and if she died, then others would soon follow.

"Piplup and Buneary are my strongest, but what if…I don't want to lose them. I don't want to lose any of them, but without them I might…no, I have to live and find mom. I know she's out there, but then…who do I choose? Who could I live without? Swinub's been with us the least but that doesn't mean I…then all that's left is Pachirisu…but with all of this water I won't be able to use…electric attacks…one accidental discharge and we could all…" Dawn lifted her gaze to the boy before her and the mouse on his shoulder.

Buizel, her Buizel, floated by him as one of the pokémon picked to defend him, and if swimming in gore bothered him, he didn't show it. A flicker of anger threatened to take over before she let it out with a breath, reminding herself that Buizel wasn't hers anymore and he was actually happier with Ash, just as Ambipom had been happier with her. While it seemed unfair that Ambipom had died, and Ash still had his pokémon it wasn't like he had planned for any of that to happen. Dawn had been wrapped up in her own sadness and anger that she had forgotten that Ash had shed his own tears when Brock had told them of Ambipom's passing.

Since then she noticed that Pikachu had been working harder, doing everything he could to protect all of them from what was happening. If she peeled away her own rage at the unfairness of it all she could see that Pikachu was hurting too. In fact it was probably worse than what she felt. To be the cause of your own friend's death could not have been easy, especially with her laying on more guilt.

Pikachu was the first to notice her moving towards them, patting Ash's head to get his attention of her presence. Dawn watched him turn around, watched the way his eyes widened and how his words were caught in his throat.

"Dawn…" his mouth stayed open as if to continue before eventually closing.

"…Pikachu, with everything that's happening I don't know if I'll get another chance to say this so now seems like the best time. What happened to Ambipom was…an accident. I know it wasn't something you wanted to happen so I wanted to get the chance to say before it was too late. I want you to know that I…I forgive you, Pikachu."

The electric mouse's eyes shimmered before he closed them and gave quick nods while Ash smiled.

"Thanks Dawn, and hey, don't worry, we're going to make it out of this and we'll find your mom again," Ash assured her. The bluenette nodded, looking to the others to see if they were ready to go.

In the end, the pokémon left outside of their pokéballs to defend them were Mime Jr., Pikachu, Piplup, Buizel, Buneary, Croagunk, Wobbuffet, and Seviper. Sarah and Frank revealed that they didn't own pokéballs and in fact had never placed their Staraptor into one. Much like the ranger regions of Fiore, Oblivia, and Almia, the people of the Ransei region had a cultural aversion to having pokémon in the capture spheres.

Piplup, Buizel, and Seviper scouted ahead, swimming beneath the surface of the water with Blitz and Windsheer acted as aerial vanguards with Mime Jr. and Croagunk hanging from their claws. Wobbuffet took up the rear since he was wounded and wasn't able to move as quickly through the water.

Ash and Dawn walked between both groups with Pikachu and Buneary riding their shoulders. In the event that something made it past their first line of defense then it would fall on the two of them to stop them from getting any further. Ash and Dawn were mainly there to act as dry platforms to leap off of and to give them a decent view of the battle. By the time the water level was above their knees they encountered their first signs of opposition.

"Buizel," Ash began, "use Son-"

"Piplup, use bu-" Dawn started to say at the same time until Buizel breached the surface of the water before either of them could finish, twisting through the air to build up enough momentum and unleashing a blade of sound from his tails. His Sonicboom carved through the waters, slicing through several tentacool across the flooded hall. Those who dodged his attack ended up coating the walls and ceiling upon meeting Piplup's Bubblebeam. Ash and Dawn tried to direct the flow of combat a few times after that, but eventually grew silent and watched the battle progress as their pokémon used the move before they could say them.

The strategy worked for a while until they passed the elevators and drew closer to the stairwell. Every row of tentacool they killed was quickly replaced by a fresh and identical row behind them. Croagunk launched himself into the fray, leaping off the bulbous heads of the tentacool and slamming his fists through the blue membranes.

Tentacles would reach out to grab him, hoping their toxins would bring him down. To their dismay the frog didn't seem to be affected and proceeded to pull them out of the water by their limbs and skewered them with his fist. Attempts to bind and drag him into the water failed when Seviper's tail slashed through their limbs and reminded them that Croagunk wasn't the only one immune to their poison.

Their steady advancement was eventually halted, yards of distance being traded for inches before the endless waves became too much and they were forced to lose ground they had taken. It wasn't that the tentacool were even powerful, nearly all of them going down with one attack. But the jellyfish pokémon weren't so much as entering the boat as they were pouring into its halls. They were half the size of normal tentacool, Meowth could only assume they were killing tentacool who hadn't even reached full maturity.

Brock could see a battle of attrition when he saw one and this wasn't one that they were going to win.

"Dawn, tell Buneary to use Ice Be-"

A flash of blue light cut Brock off as the rabbit pokémon opened her mouth and unleashed a sapphire bolt towards the ceiling. Shards of ice blossomed from the point of impact and expanded down the wall. Buizel and the others darted past the ice wall before it sealed them off. Several feet of ice stood between them and the tentacool, already amassing on the other side and slamming against it.

"That's not gonna hold them forever," Brock muttered and started looking as if to find some clue for their next course of action.

"So we're trapped in here?" Sarah cried, effectively voicing most of the group's thoughts.

"Not exactly. We passed da elevator shaft on our way ta da stairwell. We might be able ta take dat up ta de upper decks," Meowth explained and prodded Brock to move. The breeder wasn't fond of being treated like a ponyta but held his tongue and started making his way back down the hall. By the time they reached the elevators the water was up to everyone's waistline.

"Which one should we use?" Dawn asked, looking back and forth between the left and right elevators.

"As long as we can get out of this water we should be okay, right? Tentacool can't come onto land," Sarah reasoned and paled when Brock and Ash started to shake their heads.

"Tentacool can actually go onto land for a limited period of time before experiencing any problems, so we should assume that they've made it to the upper decks even if it isn't flooded. We should get to the highest deck we can before we make for the helipad," Brock explained.

"I say we go up the left elevator. If I remember correctly the right one raises through a glass tube that faces the promenade, if the tentacool are on the upper decks they'll see us as we head up." Frank mused aloud.

"The prome-what?" Ash asked.

"Think of it like a market place but inside of the boat," Sarah explained. "How have you not been there yet?"

"As soon as we landed on this ship we had to stay in our cabins so that no one would know what was happening on the mainland," Ash bitterly replied.

"Let me see if I can get the door open," Frank offered, stretching his muscled arms in preparation for the task until Brock stepped in front of him and held up a hand.

"Save your strength," Brock said, fishing through his pocket and bringing out a pokéball. In a flash the portly pink form of Happiny appeared in his arms, evoking a scoff from Frank.

"Think you can open these doors just a tiny bit, Happiny?" to which the playhouse pokémon nodded as he reached out as he held her towards the seam. She pressed her stubs to the metal and moved them apart with relative ease, the metal doors groaned in protest before the sound of rushing water drowned out the noise.

The water level in the hallway barely lowered but once the space inside was completely filled Brock gave a nod to Happiny who threw her arms out. The metal doors abruptly shunted into their slots.

Frank gave a low whistle of honest admiration before moving into the elevator shaft and looking up only to see darkness.

"I can't really see anything. If we could let a light up there," Frank suggested.

"I got it," Ash said, pulling out his own pokéball and moving into the elevator shaft. Another flash of light and the fire chimp materialized onto his arm.

"Chimchar, climb up there and give us some light with the fire on your back."

The fire starter nodded, darting off of Ash's arms and onto the opposite wall, scaling up with practiced ease. Within a few seconds they heard the fire ape's cry and looked to Meowth for translation.

"He says somethin's big an heavy blockin da rest of da way up."

"Might be the actual elevator," Frank surmised, glancing up to see a tiny flame several stories above them.

"Our staraptor should be able to get us up there," Sarah added.

"Send me up first. Meowth and my pokémon will hold the hallway while you guys make your way up," Brock offered as he returned Croagunk to his pokéball to free up Blitz's talons.

Frank paused for a moment, debating on whether or not it was right for him to send up the teen to hold the hallway when he was the adult of the group. Though, considering the last few minutes, the kids seemed to have a better handle on the situation than he and his wife did.

"Okay Blitz, you heard the man. Take him up," Frank commanded, gesturing for Brock to proceed. Brock grabbed onto the staraptor's ankles while Meowth held Happiny in his free paw, bracing himself as the predator pokémon beat his wings harder and faster. Once they reached the highest floor they could get to, Happiny forced the doors open once more. Chimchar darted through the gap before it could fully open, rolling onto his feet and scanning the hallway for opposition. Finding none he beckoned them to enter with the swing of his arm.

Meowth jumped off of Brock's lifejacket as soon as the breeder's feet touched the carpeted floor. Brock immediately returned Happiny, pocketing the capture sphere and pulling out two others. After twin flashes of light Croagunk and Sudowoodo appeared beside Meowth before taking up defensive positions around their trainer.

"Blitz, right? Head back down and see if you can bring the others up here," Brock said and watched the bird of prey swoop down the shaft and out of sight.

"Chimchar, Croagunk, head to the next break in the hallway and let me know if anything is coming towards us. Meowth, Sudowoodo, do the same for the other hallway. Stay there until I wave to you to come back and wave to me if you see the tentacool coming." Both pairs nodded and made their way down the halls. Within minutes the others and their collective party were brought up by the staraptor to join him.

"I think we're on deck four," Sarah commented as she looked about the room. "We can make our way through the promenade and up the stairs to deck six where a way onto the helipad could be."

"Sounds good," Brock stated as they jogged onto the red and black checkered carpet of what appeared to be the ship's casino. Having always had to pinch his pennies to make ends meet, Brock never found the appeal in gambling but couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret that he didn't have time to appreciate everything that the cruise had to offer. With the sounds of rustling coins and victory jingles missing, the brightly-painted machines dimmed, merely obstacles and possible cover from potential attackers.

He could see Ash and Dawn lower their guard and glance all about the room, not to spot hidden enemies, but to take in the extravagance of their surroundings. Their enjoyment was short-lived as they made their way quickly past poker and roulette tables, reaching a spiral staircase that led to the next deck.

Wobbuffet and Seviper still held up the rear while Buneary and Pikachu returned to the shoulders of their trainers. Buizel and Piplup had been returned to their pokéballs seeing as there wasn't any water to assist their movements. Sudowoodo and Croagunk took the lead with Blitz and Windsheer flying over them for aerial support.

Brock grabbed the polished brass handrails and practically launched himself up two or even three marble steps at a time. The sheer extravagance of the ship they were on made Brock stumble the moment he left the stairwell. For a moment he forgot he was in a cruise ship at all with retail stores and restaurants surrounding them. Towering above the storefronts were interior rooms that looked out over the promenade.

Colorful banners hung from the ceiling, modern art pieces were suspended before beautiful paintings. Brock looked back down and saw that the ground was littered with discarded bottles, broken glass, and other memorabilia that had been shaken loose. Tables once full of merchandise were flipped over, their wares scattered all around them. A massive plastic tree festooned with autumn-themed decorations had fallen over and crashed into one of the lounges.

"I can't believe this is happening," Sarah whispered.

"We're gonna get through this," Frank told her. "Let's keep moving."

Brock and the others nodded, running down the promenade to the best of their ability while they watched where they stepped. The stairwell to the upper decks at the other end of the ship was only ten meters away.

They were almost to the fallen tree when the screech of tearing steel slammed into them like a physical wall. At first Brock had thought the floor had fallen away until he realized the ship had listed to the left so abruptly that the floor had angled out from underneath him.

Massive gray columns the size of buses burst through the rooms of the upper decks, pushing waves of debris into the tilted promenade. The group's collective screams couldn't be heard over the bone-shaking bellow of buckling metal above them. Seviper wrapped herself around Dawn's body while Sudowoodo maneuvered beneath Brock. Sarah and Frank were grabbed by their staraptor leaving Wobbuffet to cushion Ash's fall towards the offshore excursion desk now behind them.

Amidst the screeching steel Brock could hear the scrape and hiss of littered debris sliding towards them. Buneary aimed her Ice Beam at the center of the sliding mass, the wall of ice parting the wave of scrap in two. Croagunk and Pikachu became blurs of movement as they fought the onslaught of mangled steel. Like a cloud of lavender fists and iron tails they deflected the rain of wreckage that fell towards them and the trainers behind them, scattering the debris all across the promenade.

It sounded like every inch of the ship was groaning as it started to right itself. Pikachu and Croagunk were hunched over, struggling to catch their breath once the scrap stopped flying at them. A piercing metal shriek returned for an encore as the gray columns started to move apart, crushing each room in their path like tinfoil.

They were given a view of dark and stormy skies through the massive gash in the ship's upper decks, only to be immediately eclipsed by a black sphere and a massive white pair of eyes. Despite the years separating them from Porta Vista, time had not dulled his memory of those eyes. Brock could only stare back at the black pupils of the giant Tentacruel peering into the cruise ship's interior, praying he and the others were insignificant enough to escape its notice.


	15. Lost At Sea

"Not again," Meowth whimpered, reminding Brock that Team Rocket's mascot had once been in the actual clutches of that thing, the titantecruel. Brock held his breath, unsure if moving or staying still would spell out their immediate death.

The titantecruel lowered its gaze to the hovering forms of Sarah and Frank, hanging from their staraptor. If their Intimidate ability did anything to the giant jellyfish, it didn't show. Its gaze lowered and brow furrowed upon seeing Ash and the others amidst the rubble below.

Blitz and Windsheer dove down as the Tentacruel shifted back. Pikachu's ear twitched before he blurred into action, slipping his metallic tail between Ash and Wobbuffet, launching him with all of his strength the last few meters of the promenade. The others immediately took the hint and did the same, Seviper uncoiling her body from Dawn. She flung her away with her tail while Sudowoodo tossed Brock.

A fraction of a second later a massive gray tendril punched through the gap and slammed into the promenade with enough force to spear into the lower decks. Pikachu tried to deflect the attack with his iron tail, but the attempt was like trying to derail a bullet train with a feather.

The impact rocked the promenade and sent Pikachu and the other pokémon tumbling across the deck. Pikachu let his momentum carry him a few meters until he rolled back onto all fours, screaming out as loud as he could and hoping Meowth would relay the message.

"He's tellin us ta go ahead witout him. Dat dey'll catch up wit us," Meowth translated but failed to convey any of Pikachu's conviction. Sudowoodo and Croagunk struggled to get back onto their feet. Buneary moved beside Pikachu while Seviper helped Wobbuffet up. Frank and Sarah were dropped into their midst while their staraptor hovered above them.

"I'm not leaving Pikachu again!" Ash roared. Dawn's voice quickly joined his.

"And I'm not leaving Buneary!"

The Prism Scale shuddered and groaned as the titantecruel ripped one of its toxic tendrils out of the floor. Hordes of tentacool began crawl out of the newly created hole – or at least they attempted to until Buneary unleashed her Ice Beam and sealed off the hole with ice, freezing the fleeing tentacool in place.

The entire deck began to rumble, growing stronger and louder before another giant tendril burst through the floor. Pikachu and Buneary darted away, ducking and deflecting the rubble that rained over them. The tendril retreated back to the lower decks and was replaced with another fluther of tentacool.

A flash of light behind Brock brought his attention to a row of flash-frozen tentacool emerging from a distant stairwell. Ice crystals shimmered into being as Mime Jr. unleashed another Ice Beam through his Mimic technique and sealed the stairwell off with ice. The frozen barrier was blown into slush, rendering the effort moot.

More tentacool hopped through the shattered ice, fully grown and angry. The glossy crimson domes on their head flashed for a moment before the scarlet sphere between their eyes fired a ray.

***

"What'ssss the plan?" Seviper hissed to the electric mouse as she split a tentacool in two with her tail. Tentacool spilled out of the holes in the deck like blood from a wound. Ice seals were destroyed as fast as Buneary could put them down. The beams were growing duller and thinner. The ice spreading over the emergence holes wasn't as thick or as hard to break through.

"We're buying Ash and the others time to get away," Pikachu eventually answered back, glancing up to see the titantecruel glaring down at them. "And making sure we keep his focus on us, at least until they're up the stairs. We'll rejoin them once they're high enough."

"They're not moving," Buneary pointed out, launching her powerful legs at the tentacool before her and turning him into a stain on the wall at the other end of the promenade.

"They probably don't want to leave us behind, which is exactly what we need them to do for now," Pikachu growled.

"Let me handle that," Croagunk cried and turned to his teammate behind him. "Throw me," Croagunk yelled as he hopped onto Sudowoodo's arm. The stone tree didn't even question the order, seeing where Brock and the other humans were and immediately taking aim. The fighting frog held onto Sudowoodo's arm as he whirled around in place, kicking off the branch at the same time as the throw.

Croagunk flew across the promenade, his landing fist plunging through a tentacool's face and out the back of its head. He wrenched his arm back and jumped away just as several beams converged on the area, splattering their brethren's remains across the deck. Mime Jr. unleashed a beam of his own, the cerulean icebolt freezing another row of tentacool as Croagunk turned to face his trainer and the other humans.

The fighting frog's cheeks swelled until they were half the size of his head. They looked almost ready to burst until he unleashed a mighty "Cro!" and gestured to the stairwell with his arm. He didn't wait for any confirmation, leaping away and twirling through the air to face another wave of tentacool moving past the frozen wall of victims.

"It'ssss doing that thing again," Seviper cried, pointing her tail at the gap where the titantecruel shifted back, the telltale sign of it rearing its tentacle for another strike. Pikachu launched off his tail, hoping he was far enough away from the others as he tried to summon his element. However, the tendril was closing the distance much faster than he had anticipated. It was so massive and bridging the gap so quickly that all the electric mouse could see was gray. With no way to dodge it in midair, summon his element in time, or deflect an attack of this magnitude, Pikachu realized this would be his final moment. He thought of Ash.

Until he felt something knock him aside.

Pikachu could only watch in horror as Wobbuffet flew past him, taking the tendril head on. He was about to yell out against Wobbuffet's sacrifice until he noticed the orange glow that outlined the blue blob's body. Reality seemed to shimmer from the impact, the entire promenade depressurizing from the shockwave alone.

Pikachu, the collective party, and even the incoming tentacool that flowing into the room watched in awe as the building-sized tendril curved back from Wobbuffet's body and shot back through the gash in the ship.

Straight back to its source.

Whatever pride Wobbuffet felt from the herculean feat was drained by what he'd just provoked. The earlier crunch and screech of steel might as well have been absolute silence compared to the titanic bellow that ensued.

Pikachu's entire body shook so much he thought his bones would shatter from the abuse. The tentacool glanced at one another and began to retreat, climbing over the countless bodies of their fallen comrades and disappearing into the lower decks. Wobbuffet's body slammed into the promenade, cratering the floor beneath him.

An eerie silence filled the air. Only Pikachu's acute hearing could catch the distant crash of waves against the battered hull of the ship. The collective party froze, fearing any major move would shatter their impossible moment of peace. A few frantic heartbeats passed before they decided whatever was going to happen would happen regardless of their movements.

Pikachu, Buneary, and Sudowoodo ran over to Wobbuffet, noting that his body looked more gray than blue as they drew closer. Wobbuffet's breathing was labored. A painful wheeze accompanied every intake of breath.

"I'm…okay," he offered, though whether anyone believed him was up for debate.

"I can't believe…" Pikachu glanced up at the gaping holes in the ship's hull then back to him.

"Is he going to…?" Sudowoodo wondered aloud.

"Might I remind you that Wob hasss been hitting the ground at terminal velocity every other day for yearsss. I'm impressssed he could counter that attack, but not sssurprissed. Did he at least sssay he wasss okay?"

"H-he did," Buneary tearfully replied.

"Then he'll make it." Seviper assured, though she couldn't completely hide the concern in her voice.

"Had…worse…" Wobbuffet coughed out.

"That'ssss the ssspirit. Though from the looksss of it, you don't look like you could make another Counter or Mirror Coat."

Wobbuffet was quiet for a few seconds before he managed an affirming cough. "You're not wrong," he admitted, then weakly pointed to the space above them.

Twin shadows descended upon the group, causing them to flinch.

"We need to move now," Blitz screeched, extending his leg in invitation.

"The others have already started moving," Windsheer added and mimicked the gesture. Sudowoodo took the talons while Pikachu and Buneary grabbed hold of his legs.

"What about Wobbuffet?" Buneary whispered, glancing back at the fallen Patient Pokémon.

"What about him?" Seviper hissed. Everyone tensed, but she coiled around his fallen body, offering a section of her body to the Staraptor. "He'sss coming with ussss," she added matter-of-factly.

"Not…so tight…" the patient pokémon groaned.

"Hang on," both staraptor yelled in unison, beating their wings against the air and lifting their passengers off the ground.

***

Brock's entire body shook as he struggled to keep himself upright, using the wall in front of him as support. He looked to Frank and Ash, finding some small level of comfort that he wasn't the only one winded from their mad dash up several flights of stairs. Croagunk, having yet to break a sweat, stood by stairs behind them. His body was scrunched inwards, ready to launch himself at a moment's notice should any tentacool have made the mistake of following them up. Brock looked out beyond the massive glass wall that went up several stories, a sea of scattered beach chairs amidst sloshing pools and hot tubs awaited them on the other side.

"It says here dat we're on de eleventh deck," Meowth announced, also looking no worse for wear, aiming his paw at the flickering touchscreen map.

"How're we going to get to your helicopter now?" Frank spoke between gasps.

"I got an idea an its da reason we're up here. Ya might not like it but it beats havin ta go tru all dos tentacool in da halls."

"As long as there's no more stairs, I think I can take it," Dawn panted.

"Cro!" the battle toad cried, pulling everyone's focus to the stairway. The others tensed, but after months of time with his pokémon, Brock recognized a happy croak from a distressed one. The sound of their collective party responding to Croagunk seemed to reinvigorate everyone in the room. Meowth left the group to have their brief reunion, moving past sliding automatic glass doors and feeling the salty gales against his fur.

Slivers of rain streaked past him, barely enough to count as a drizzle but nonetheless another concern for the cat. He hopped up onto the metal railings on the side of the ship, seeing the black churning waters below them. With his enhanced night vision he could make out the distant yellow muster boats, probably filled to the brim with the ship's entire population.

His gaze fell to the sinking base of the ship, a view he immediately regretted. The seas below were a hellish perversion of a starry sky: an opaque and roiling night with stars replaced by pairs of glaring crimson lights. His heart sank; they seemed to go out for miles. Least we've hit da bottom, Meowth thought. Then he saw the muster boats in the distance.

Amidst the tiny pinpricks of light there was a dull but massive pair of crimson splotches. Meowth watched the lights flare up with the smaller ones around it. They winked in response and scattered away from the boats.

"Meowth, what're you…" Dawn was cut short as the titantecruel breached the surface of the water. It swiveled around, glaring at the surrounding boats with one eye, the other one bleeding and gone. A second and third titantecruel rose to join him and quickly busied themselves by launching their tentacles into the sea and plucking the muster boats out of the water.

"By the gods," Frank said, suddenly grateful that he and his wife hadn't gone to their stations. Between the crashing waves and the howling wind the distant screams never reached their ears, though their imagination filled in the gaps. Everyone could only watch as the muster boats of the Prism Scale became metallic mass graves.

"There's nothing we can do for them. We need to move now," Brock grimly reminded everyone. He started making his way up the white stairs to the next level of the boat.

Dawn could see people throw themselves out of their vessel to take their chances in the waters below, only to meet a sea of crimson lights and regret in their final moments. Others hung off the sides of their boat, desperately trying to prolong their last few miserable seconds of life.

Whether because their strength failed or their grip slipped, all eventually fell to join the others in the sea. The spots where they fell into the dark waters were marked by patches of foam when the red lights converged on the spot.

The second titantecruel to appear had taken to catching the humans that fell from the muster boats, a series of smaller tendrils emerging from his black underbelly and coiling around their captive's limbs. Everyone but Ash and Pikachu looked away as the woman's limbs were pulled off and what was left of her was lazily tossed into the foaming and screaming waters below. Ash could hear the mixture of whimpers, cries, and heaves coming from behind him. He could feel the bile burn as it rose up his throat, only to be pushed back down by his rage.

The other titantecruel presented her own captive, an adult man wrapped from the waist down with a single tentacle. Some part of Ash worried that his own teeth would shatter from how hard he was gritting them. The boy from Pallet kept his murderous glare fixated on the giant jellyfish while she shook her human captive until seconds later all that remained was a boneless bag of flesh.

It became a sort of macabre competition between the two, each of them grabbing as many people as they could until they ran out of limbs to hold them all. They presented each human to the one eyed titantecruel, to which he'd shake his head. Each shake brought about another gruesome display in which they tried to break their catch in a new and unique way.

One man was twisted apart. A human couple were slammed against each other like dueling swords until only a bloody pulp remained. Another was crumbled into a ball of gore and tossed playfully at the other titantecruel who swatted it away before it could make contact.

The sound of heavy breathing drew Meowth's attention. Meowth flinched at Ash's feral eyes, his teeth bared, his face almost inhuman, unrecognizable. Brock called to make for the tilt rotor and Meowth looked away, missing the moment where an azure glow began to form around the boy's eyes.

Ash could see the giant tentacruel now as if they were no further than a few meters away, so lost in his fury he didn't question how. He could see in painful detail the expressions each person made as they died. A translucent cloud hung over each giant tentacruel and the more he stared at it, the more he somehow knew, somehow felt, the joy the tentacruel were experiencing.

Even without the cloud he could tell from the way their eyes scrunched together, the way their heads bobbed to the sound of every scream they wrung from the victims. They were enjoying it, the gruesome ways they ended those lives. It was a game. Any vestige of fear gave way to complete and utter loathing, the power and size of the tentacruel forgotten in the face of his fury.

It mounted, washing away everything else, filling his synapses beyond their potential to feel, beyond fury to absolute fire. Not Paul, not Team Rocket, not even Hunter J, a cruel and brutal woman who had left him to die and set entire forests on fire to smoke him out, could do this. The Tentacruel had unearthed a feeling he had no words for, a feeling Ash never knew he was capable of.

Pallet Town's star trainer could only seethe in place, gripping the railway until his knuckles went white as he struggled to bite back his cry of outrage. The azure glow over his eyes crept down to his hands, the metal railing beneath his fingers succumbing like a tin can, not the hard steel he loosely remembered grabbing.

Everything in his core told him to stop the senseless butchery, to save the people and make things right again. But here, on a sinking cruise liner, Ash could only stand in place with his impotence. He felt someone's hand grab the back of his shirt, the instance of contact making him whirl around to see Dawn, her eyes starting to shimmer the longer she looked at him.

Ash flinched and shook his head, covering one of his eyes as he stumbled back, lightheaded. His face felt like it was on fire, every beat of his heart making temples throb and his fingers twitch. At some point Pikachu had hopped off his shoulder and now stood beside Dawn.

"Ash, I... I hate that it has to be this way… but Brock's right. We can't help them. We can't do anything from here. All we can do is go." She gave him the gentlest tug on his shirt, then backed away at his bared teeth.

Ash's heart still raced. He closed his eyes and tried to focus only on the sounds of the wind and the waves. After a few deep breathes he opened his eyes, Dawn and Pikachu both staring at him in concern. He looked over to see everyone else making their way up another flight, grim-faced and keeping their gazes on the steps ahead of them.

Is that what I have to do? Keep my head down and pretend what's behind me isn't happening? But Dawn's right, there really isn't anything we could do to stop the…wait, what if Pikachu-

Memories of the devastation to Porta Vista, how their collective pokémon couldn't do anything to stop the titantecruel then, flitted through his thoughts.

Take care of my daughter.

I can't save them…but I can at least keep Dawn safe.

Ash pushed air through his nose and nodded, taking her by the hand and moving away from the railing. Pikachu scampered behind them, but not before glancing back at the hand-shaped indentations deep in the metal railing.

Brock had pulled ahead of everyone and made it to the top of another flight of stairs.

"NO! NO! DAMMIT!" Brock screamed, tearing off the life jacket and backpack and throwing them to the ground. Everyone pumped their tired limbs even harder to reach the fallen breeder but as they drew closer they began to notice the large column of smoke rising from beyond the railing. With a few more steps they were at Brock's side and could see the source of the smoke rising from the front of the ship, completely engulfing the helipad.

"No… it… we…" Ash started to say, his tone swinging back and forth between confusion and utter despair. Frank felt his wife's arms around him, his chest wet with her tears. He held her tightly, fighting against the tremors that went through his body. Dawn sunk to the floor as well, openly sobbing onto the deck.

Meowth kept staring at the smoke column. With practiced ease he took the dread that threatened to overtake him and shoved it to the back of his mind to join other negative thoughts he'd accumulated throughout the years. He took a deep breath, recognizing the smell, but wasn't sure from where. After a few seconds the answer came to him and he realized what was happening.

"Everyone! Jessie, James an da ship are fine! Dat ain't no regular smoke. I don't smell anythin burnin. I recognize da smell from one of our smoke bombs. Jessie an James are tryin ta hide da tilt rota so de tentacruel won't see'em. We can still make it!"

Before the good news could really sink in, before the sorrow could even begin to dissipate, a massive wall of crimson light sheared through the upper decks of the cruise ship a few meters behind them. The attack was over instantly, its power so fast and absolute that the boat never even shifted as the top four decks disintegrated within the light.

The metal framework that formed the ship's floors and hallways pulsed with an angry orange glow. Water from the remaining half of a pool on the top decks poured into the newly-made ravine and made the air shimmer amidst the rising steam. Meowth traced the source of the beam from the one-eyed tentacruel, the ruby sphere on his forehead glowing briefly before growing dull once more.

Connections ran both ways and having played the ventriloquist dummy to the titantecruel in Porta Vist, Meowth had experienced the world through its eyes and learned that his puppeteer had surprisingly good eyesight, enough to spot, hear, and attack something as tiny as Misty's Horsee in the water from several dozen meters away. The fact alone that he and the others were still around to ponder the blast that missed them proved that the Titantecruel had either fired blindly in hopes of catching them in the blast, or saw them and missed because of his missing eye.

Meowth prayed it was the former.

***

The other two titantecruel issued bellows of approval, though their one-eyed brother did not appear satisfied with the result. He'd placed an entire day's worth of sunlight into that blast and the fact that any piece of the human construct was still visible was more of an insult than the wound he'd inflicted on himself.

"Deal with the small ones as you see fit, I'll take care of the big one myself," the titantecruel rumbled back to his brothers and swam towards the cruise ship. His brothers watched him leave, then shrugged and went back to cackling as they pulled their new playthings apart.

***

Meowth bolted across the deck, forgoing his two-legged gait for a more natural four-legged run. Brock and the others followed as best they could, scrambling across the deck until they slammed into the railing at the end. They could see the rest of the ship slope down for a few meters before plateauing down to the sixth deck where the helipad was.

A helipad that was now only a few feet above the waters that flooded deck five.

"Sevi, we're gonna need some cover. Use Haze an don't stop til I tell ya to."

The viper complied with Meowth's command, lifting herself to full height, opening her mouth and unleashing a thick black cloud. Some of it misted back down, but anyone looking at them from a higher vantage point would only see a dark mist billowing from the ship.

"I need all of youse wit pokéballs ta return yer pokémon fer now. If someone could get Junior an Wob dat'd be great."

No one questioned Meowth's orders, especially not when the titantecruel would be there in a minute's time.

"Oi, how many humans can da two of you carry?" Meowth asked the staraptor pair and got a few squawks in response.

Meowth nodded then studied each human behind him, mumbling the math he was doing in his head.

"Okay den. Blitz, take da big guy and de twerpette, she can tell Jessie an James ta get de engine started. Sheer, you're in charga yer friend an de big twerp. Both of ya come back up fer da rest of us when yer done." Meowth whirled around to Seviper, still filling the air with dark mist.

"Sevi, drop da Haze an go wit Croagunk ta make sure dere's no one waitin for us down dere," Meowth motioned with his paw towards the helipad. The viper glanced at the fighting frog and exchanged a curt nod before slipped past the railing, sliding down the boat, and diving off the edge to the sinking decks below.

Ash watched Frank and Sarah's staraptor carry them and his friends, the strained wingbeats matching the pace of his frantically pounding heart.

"Pikachu Pi-ka-chu?"

Meowth replied to what was apparently Pikachu's question. "Cause I already abandoned too many at Twinleaf," Meowth mumbled.

Ash was about to ask what he meant by that when Frank and Sarah's staraptor arrived. Wobbuffett had just enough strength to hold onto Blitz while Ash, Pikachu, and Meowth held onto Windsheer. As the familiar whine of the turbine filled their ears once more, the column of smoke hiding the aircraft from sight was blown away. Croagunk and Seviper waited by the steps to the helipad, eyeing the waters that now sloshed halfway up the flight.

No tentacool emerged from the inundated fifth deck, which struck the poison pair as odd until they saw the titantecruel now towering over the cruise ship. Whatever their larger kin had planned for the ship, even the creatures who had thrown body after body at them wanted no part of what it had in store. Ash, Meowth, Wobbuffet, and Pikachu landed at the edge of the helipad and ran towards the tilt rotor's open doors.

Ash practically dived in while Brock helped lift Wobbuffet inside, Frank pounding the door to let James know to take off. Most of Seviper's Haze and Team Rocket's smoke bomb had finally dissipated, leaving nothing to conceal the aircraft's presence. Once they were a few feet off the helipad James set the turbines to full throttle and activated the jets.

***

The titantecruel had been in mid-swing, aiming to cleave the cruise ship in two with one of his tentacles. The size of his limb rivaled that of a skyscraper, having swollen to this magnitude by absorbing the water around him. A whirring noise and flicker of movement caught his eye just as his tendril slammed into the boat, driving through each deck with ease until he reached the cold waters beneath it.

His victory over the human construct was pushed aside as he turned to face the source of the movement and light. The titantecruel's eyes narrowed, the rubicund domes on his head flashing a message to all the tentacool in the area. He told them to pass it on.

***

James grew uneasy when the sea beneath them started to pulse. Winking crimson lights rippled out into the horizon. The seas went dark for the span of a heartbeat until a wall of light stretched across the skyline and blocked out the stars. With every passing second it seemed to grow larger, and while James wasn't sure what exactly he was looking at, his gut told him he didn't want to fly the tilt rotor headlong into it. As the aircraft swerved to the left James realized he had little time to pat himself on the back for his quick thinking. He set the thrusters to max, speeding away back to the cruise ship.

Jessie wasn't sure whether to be awestruck or terrified. It isn't a wall. Hundreds upon thousands of energy beams burst from the twinkling red lights of the tentacool below.

James was barely keeping ahead of the deluge of energy. More and more bolts sizzled past them, forcing James to take evasive maneuvers. The titantecruel awaited at the severed and sinking cruise liner, the crimson spheres atop its head flashing once more. Almost immediately the beams raining up from behind them ceased and colossal tendrils burst out from the water and closed the distance.

James sent the tilt rotor into dives and swerves, doing his best to dodge tentacles the size of buildings. The screams of his passengers pulsed through the cockpit door. His hand slipped on the controls. James soon learned the price for his lapse when one of the tentacles surged towards them head on.

But the tentacle veered off at the last second to strike the empty air. A familiar bellowing roar slammed into them with enough force to widen the cracks in their windshield.

"James, over there!" he imagined his partner had said to him, the ringing in his ears muffling her voice. She aimed her finger to the Titantecruel's face. His last remaining eye darkened and wept blood. The massive tentacruel thrashed about, launching all eighty limbs out in a berserker rage. Two figures darted between his flailing tentacles, ones that Meowth immediately recognized as Blitz and Windsheer, their beaks and talons stained red.

Another flash of crimson light filled their vision and as it dulled they could see the frantic red twinkle in the seas below them. Sensing their next move the staraptor flew to the safest spot they could think of with James following closely behind. Rays of solar energy launched from everywhere on the ocean's surface and speared into the skies above, everywhere except around the giant tentacruel who commanded them. Some of its arms had coiled inwards and ghosted over his new wound while others continued to thrash and slam against the sinking remnant of the Prism Scale.

The tilt rotor was a few stories over the giant tentacruel, hovering silently and just out of the range of the tentacruel's tantrum.

"James, how're we getting out of here?" Jessie asked, searching for a break in the attacks. She could see Blitz and Windsheer dart through the air, trying to find a gap but to no avail.

The door behind them slid open. The trio turned to see the boy they had chased across the globe.

"Why aren't we moving?"

"Have you even looked outside? The second we move into those beams we're toast," Jessie hissed.

"We could just wait them out, they can't keep firing forever," James suggested.

"Ya, but as soon as dey stop, his friends'll see us," Meowth countered.

The boy's cold voice sent chills they never expected from him. "Then I have an idea."

***

Pikachu hopped onto the tilt rotor's surface and stared at the energy beams rising all around them. He glanced back to his trainer, his friend of so many years, glaring at him from below.

"Pikachu. I need you to listen to me," Ash began, struggling to remain calm.

Pikachu knew full well what his friend was about to ask of him, but nodded and waited. The boy from Pallet fought to keep his words from devolving into a growl, the fists at his sides clenched so hard they were shaking.

"I want you to hit the tentacruel with a Thunderbolt. As hard as you can, with everything you have!" Ash ordered, barely keeping himself from screaming out the command. Pikachu edged away but eventually nodded back to him and darted over to the edge of the tilt rotor to peer down and see the titantecruel still striking out blindly, bellowing curses and promises of vengeance.

"I'll catch you once you're done," Blitz said, darting over him while he made another pass around the tilt rotor.

The electric mouse nodded, took a deep breath, and leapt over the edge. Time slowed to a crawl, letting him make out each individual energy beam.

Pikachu reflexively tapped into the reservoir where he drew the energy for his element, immediately alarmed by all the pent-up power. He knew from experience that if the mental block continued, the buildup would've made him sick. Or worse, sent him into a frenzy.

He tried drawing the slightest bit of energy to test the stability of the connection, but the trickle turned into a monsoon. The excess sparked from his crimson cheeks, the first sight of his element in days. The relief nearly overwhelmed him, like regaining the use of a limb.

The sudden surge made his body feel lighter, the world around him growing fainter as the power thrummed through his veins. His heart pounded frantically, excitement and pleasure replacing the relief and worry. He could already see himself in future battles, no longer having to rely on his speed and Iron Tail to barely make it out of an encounter. He could end them instantly now. Obstacles would become scorched patches of earth.

No longer would he have to restrain himself, he could unleash all his terrible fury upon those who wished to harm him and the others he cared abo-

…The others…

The electric mouse's power high came crashing down; the two words repeating in his mind, reminding him why he held back in the first place. A flash of Ambipom's face threatened to break the circuit once more until the memory of Dawn's apology rushed in to counter it.

She forgave me. It was an accident. An accident that I will never let happen again. Pikachu solemnly swore. I own this power. Not the other way around and right now Ash…wants me to attack this pokémon. The way he looked at me, after what I've done, he knows what I can do and still he wants me to do it. No, he ordered me to do it.

The writhing form of the titantecruel was only a few meters below him now, unaware of his presence as he descended.

He was so angry. I don't think he's ever made that face before. Does he understand what he's asking me to do? Why am I even questioning this? How is this any different from the kabutops or the ariados I've killed?"

Pikachu let the energy build up around him until his entire body was enveloped in a corona of lightning.

Because Ash is asking me to do this. He's ordering me to kill someone. Ash wants this…and so do I. All of those people those tentacruel killed and for what? We'll make them pay. I'll make them pay for what they did. It'll make Ash happy. It'll avenge everyone they killed!

Pikachu's cry was drowned out by a dozen arcs of white lightning that crackled around him. The shell of plasma that encircled him began to converge into a single point, building up until he could no longer contain it. The lightning lance speared through the air and struck the jellyfish between his glossy domes. Blitz and Windsheer watched in horror and awe as the giant jellyfish shook violently in place. What was left of its eyes melted in his skull and spurted out with every shudder.

All at once the onslaught of energy beams ended. The electric current reached the water and the ocean's surface was swiftly hidden beneath a layer of foam formed from the frenzied flails of the tentacool. Atop every head the ruby domes flashed, ruptured and sprayed their contents into the air.

Even as he landed onto the titantecruel's steaming and convulsing body Pikachu kept pouring every ounce of energy into his attack, now at point blank. The flesh around him began to bubble and burst where it wasn't scorched black from the bolts that danced across its flesh. Pikachu kept up the pressure, pumping more of his element into the titantecruel's body, cooking the creatures from the inside out.

***

Ash and the rocket trio watched from the cockpit as the electrocution extended into the horizon. Whatever relief they'd felt was torn from them when their eyes fell upon the other two titantecruel… and the people still caught in their grip.

Ash's smile curdled on his face, eyes once full of poison widened in dread. The towering tendrils that held up their massive bodies eventually buckled. The main body crashed back into the sea and sent waves teeming with steaming human and tentacool corpses.

"Shit," was all Jessie could manage, looking over to the boy she had hounded for years as he stumbled back against the door.

"I…I didn't…I wasn't…" Ash's hands grabbed at his hair as he slid down the length of the door.

"Twer…" Jessie took a deep breath and corrected herself. "Ash. I know you think it's your fau- look, the three of us also forgot about those pe- they were goners, okay? There was no way we could've saved them. If anything…you put them out of their misery."

"Jess, you're not helping!" James yelled.

"Fine, then you do it!" his partner roared back and slumped into the copilot's seat to stare away from him at the steaming sea.

Ash didn't hear either of them. In fact, he didn't hear much of anything aside beyond the pounding in his head. He'd withdrawn into his own mind to review the three things he knew for sure.

Pikachu's electric attack killed those people. He told Pikachu to use an electric attack. He was responsible.

***

Pikachu's gaze alternated between the dark skies and the sea that slowly devoured his sinking island. More and more of the titantecruel's cooked body disappeared beneath the murky waters… if they could be called waters anymore with the amount of bloated tentacool bodies that bobbed closer and closer to him.

"Jump," Blitz yelled from behind him.

Pikachu did as he was told, slamming his tail against the last dry patch of the titantecruel's body with enough force to submerge the rest. The timing wasn't perfect but Blitz adjusted accordingly and angled himself for Pikachu to land on his back.

"Thanks," Pikachu said. The staraptor said nothing as he gained altitude, making his way towards the tilt rotor above them. A new scent had filled the air, one that made Pikachu's stomach growl. He was about to comment on it until he noticed the fields of dead littering the sea. He realized it was the source.

"I hope Ash is happy," he whispered into the night air.


	16. Split Decision

August 19

***

"Get further back," James yelled through the doorway, doing his final check of the cockpit. Finding nothing essential they would need for the rest of their trip on foot, he darted out of the grounded tilt rotor and joined the others at the edge of the clearing behind a row of trees.

"Let's get a move on, we don't want to be around when the ZIB goes critical," James prompted, noting the haggard forms of the others. Team Rocket and Sarah were accustomed to running on little sleep. The former came from years of schemes that usually involved digging and concealing deep pitfalls in the road while the latter was shaped from working long night shifts at the hospital. Having neither of those backgrounds, Frank and the twerp trio found the endeavor unforgiving.

Blitz and Windsheer dove down to meet them, prompting a collective wince as the Intimidation effect activated once more. Those still groggy from the all-nighter had found their wake-up call. The two staraptor landed in their midst and chirped something to Meowth.

"Dey say dey found a road dat way." Meowth motioned to Blitz's outstretched wing.

"Probably Route 1," Jessie suggested.

"Let's get a move on then," James urged and started walking. A few steps in he realized no one else was following him. Tired looks and grumbles were all he heard before the group slowly followed suit. Blitz and Windsheer had taken to the trees, darting from branch to branch as they established a perimeter. James would've told them they needn't have bothered since the wildlife of Route 1 were small and posed little threat to their party. Despite this, the group didn't want to take any chances and insisted on having some kind of vanguard. As such, Croagunk, Seviper, Buneary, and Mime. Jr were summoned and strategically placed around the group.

James glanced back to see Ash and Pikachu trailing behind the rest of them. At Brock's insistence everyone had given Ash his space; years of traveling with the boy had taught him that Ash preferred to work things out on his own and would come to them when he had sorted out his feelings.

The exception to this rule was Pikachu, who was still allowed to remain on Ash's shoulder. If a creature capable of so much death and destruction being close bothered Ash, then he didn't show it.

It was ironic, almost laughable, to the rocket trio when they looked upon the source of their motivation for the past few years and felt nothing but fear. Pikachu's power had been a driving force behind every region and ocean they had crossed. Now the mouse's newest level of power had them wanting nothing more than to be on the furthest side of the planet.

The only thing that could direct that destruction was Ash. At this point, separating the two and sending the electric mouse to Giovanni would be like sending him a bomb.

***

What am I going to tell mom?

It was a question Ash had dedicated himself to for the last few hours, an all-encompassing thought that laughed at the notion of sleep.

If I told her, would she… could she forgive me?

Ash wanted to believe the answer would be yes until his mind summoned the memory of all the bodies bobbing above the surface.

So many people were… because of what I told Pikachu. What if she never found out? What if I just never told her? She'd never need to know.

Ash's gaze lifted to see the others walking ahead of him, people who had seen what he had done.

Would they tell her? Would they keep this secret if I asked them to? Even if they don't tell her, it might still slip and I'll tip her off that something's wrong. She'd know something was off. If I don't tell her then she'd ask Brock or Dawn and she'd know and…we were trapped and we were going to die and the only way out was if Pikachu killed the tentacruel.

The more Ash assured himself the more doubts began to creep in and form cracks.

Could I have done something differently? I was angry back then. I wasn't thinking about the other people. We couldn't see them, I thought…we all thought they were dead. We couldn't save them…she'd understand that, right? The tentacruel were hurting and killing all those people and there was no way we could've saved them.

Ash's fists were starting to ache from the strain and only relaxed when he felt a furry nuzzle against his cheek. His hand reached up to pet his starter and smiled until another epiphany slapped the grin from his face.

What if the police found out? Would I go to jail? How wouldn't I? There has to be some kind of punishment. There's no way I wouldn't be punished after so many people… would I even be allowed to be a pokémon trainer anymore? Even if I got out, would I even be allowed to be a pokémon master? Would they take my pokémon away? Would they take Pikachu?

***

Several minutes had passed when they felt the ground shudder with a gust of wind rushing through the leaves. The pause in their movements lasted a heartbeat, but with no commentary about the fate of the tilt rotor they continued walking.

"So where exactly is this Ransei region?" Jessie's attempt at small talk was swiftly met with glares from Dawn.

"Don't even think about it," the bluenette grumbled, earning a few quizzical stares from Sarah and Frank.

"I was just curious about their region."

"Somehow I really doubt you only want to sightsee if you're there," Dawn countered. The married couple glanced at one another before Sarah voiced their thoughts.

"Are we missing something?"

"Let's just say that we have history with those three," came Brock's diplomatic response. Dawn scoffed, waiting for Brock to elaborate but when he remained silent she saw fit to try and fill the gap.

"Meowth and those two are actually part of a group called Team Rocket which-"

"Hey!" Jessie yelled, "Here's a thought! How about instead of burning this already rickety bridge, we just keep the peace for the next few minutes since we're not even going to be together for too much longer!"

Dawn held her tongue but kept glaring daggers at the rocket agent. As grateful as she was for their efforts for getting them off her region and the cruise ship alive, the idea that they would continue their villainous ways elsewhere wasn't something she could turn a blind eye to. She looked to Brock for support but found him giving her a look that told her to leave the matter be. Dawn crossed her arms with an indignant huff but did as she was told.

The mention of their parting struck a chord with the breeder who at the time hadn't even considered the idea of their group splitting up. Brock's mindset had settled into short term objectives. Being three steps ahead of a situation was pointless when just about everything could -and did- go wrong at the first step of the plan.

The road to Pewter City was north and went through Viridian City and its forest, meaning his time with Team Rocket wasn't necessarily over, but Ash had to go south if he ever wanted to reach Pallet Town.

And then there was Dawn.

Despite everything she had seen on the last two nights the young coordinator remained adamant on returning to Sinnoh to find her mother. Frank and Sarah both had family back in Ransei and with what they had all just seen, the only feasible way to make it back would be to go by air.

"Guys," Brock waited until the rocket trio turned the face him before continuing. "Would there be another aircraft at your base in Viridian City?"

The trio trudged in silence for a while, their conversation taking the form of sidelong glances and eyebrow waggles until they eventually came to some kind of consensus.

"It's possible," James eventually replied.

"Are we talkin a Meowth balloon or anudda tilt rota? Cause I'm sure dey got plenty of da foist but not so much of de otha. Maybe a helicopta or two, why?"

"I was wondering if there was any chance you might be able to take Ash back home and the others back to their regions."

"Even if we were inclined to transport such grateful guests," Jessie gave pointed look at Dawn, "once we get back to base it's not really our call anymore. The boss issued a total recall of all agents and staff, which would include pilots. We'd have to get the okay for such a trip and with the way things have been, I don't see that happening any time soon."

"Not ta mention fer him ta approve dat kinda trip it'd hafta benefit him or da organization in some way. All dat time an fuel ta get ta dose places has ta be worth it to da boss."

"What if they take one of the Meowth balloons," James offered. "I'm sure they've had to mass produce them seeing as we go through so many. I doubt that they'd miss one and if we loaded it with supplies and extra fuel you might be able to make it to one of your destinations. I could teach you how to steer and the other mechanisms."

"Hate ta burst yer balloon, but while dat ting's great fer tailin people on foot, even wit da side propulsion rockets, a trip to anotha region might take'em weeks. Da twerp an Pikachu'd be de only ones benefitin from it."

Jessie shuffled over to her partner and gave him a look, one he reflected back at her.

"You're getting awfully chummy with them," she whispered.

"If it weren't for their staraptor making that giant tentacruel miss, we wouldn't be having this conversation," James countered, reveling in the lack of rebuttal from his partner.

"There's… an airport by Pallet Town."

The sound of Ash's voice gave everyone pause, prompting them to turn and make sure they hadn't just imagined it. The boy and his starter were still a few paces behind the group, his discomfort from all the attention was palpable.

"It's a small one but… there might some planes or something you guys can use to get back home."

"Hopefully there's a pilot willing to take us," Frank sighed, looking at his watch and wondering how much he could sell it for.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Sarah added, placing her hand of over his father's watch and smiling.

Two squawks came from above, everyone turning to Meowth for a translation.

"Dey're sayin da road's just up ahead."

The group made it past a thicket of trees and saw the dirt road a few meters ahead of them. It stretched from one horizon to another, curving around rolling hills and grassy knolls typical of Route 1. James found himself envying anyone who called this route home.

Anyone in this part of the woods would have no idea that the rest of the world was going to hell.

"Looks like this is where we part ways," Brock adjusted his backpack and faced the northern stretch of the road.

"Looks like," Ash muttered, scanning the southern path in hopes of finding some recognizable feature and failing. The breeder turned and walked over to Ash, startling the boy and his starter when he swept him into a hug that lifted him off his feet.

"Take care of yourself, okay."

Ash's body went rigid, eyes as wide as dinner plates until he wheezed something about not being able to breathe, frantically patting the breeder's shoulder for release. Pikachu, safely out of hugging range, watched with a smile.

"Sorry." Brock chuckled and set the boy down.

"S'okay," Ash's lips managed the hint of a smile. "And… I'll try."

Brock's expression tightened slightly then softened once more when he exhaled.

"Ash, I've been thinking a lot about what happened back on the boat. You looked like you wanted some space so I didn't say anything but… try not to beat yourself up over what happened."

Ash winced, instinctively reaching for the edge of his cap. He pulled it down to hide his eyes.

"You made a tough call," Brock continued, "tougher than anyone your age is supposed to deal with. Not many people, let alone someone 15 years old, could've made that decision. I'm sorry it fell onto your shoulders, but I know you did what you thought was the best choice based on what you knew at the time. That's all anyone can ask of you. That's… all anyone can ask of anyone if they had been in your shoes."

Ash silently nodded but kept his head down. Brock squatted down and turned to face the electric starter.

"I know you'll take care of Ash no matter what, but don't forget to take care of yourself, okay. I know beyond a doubt that he'll be in safe or at least in good hands as long as he's with you. Thanks for getting me this far, Pikachu," Brock extended his hand to the mouse. Pikachu beamed and grabbed the breeder's fingers with both paws and shook it.

The moment Brock stood up again he was almost knocked back down when Dawn tackled him into a hug. He stumbled back but regained his footing, glancing down at the head of blue hair that was buried into his shirt.

"Take care of yourself, alright. I hope your family's okay," her muffled words floated up to his ears. He rubbed the small of her back reassuringly as he returned the hug.

"Like you always say, don't worry. Tell… tell your mom I said hi. Let her know I'm sorry about the house." Dawn nodded against his chest and backed away to wipe her eyes.

"It was a pleasure knowing you, Brock." Frank extended a bulky arm. Brock took it and gave him the firmest shake he could muster, which could hardly contend with Frank's muscled grip.

"Take care of each other and I hope you two make it safely to Ransei."

Sarah went to the rocket trio, took their hands into her own and bowed.

"I don't know all the details about your past, but thank you for getting us out of there alive."

"Oi, Twerp an Twerpette. Don't take dis da wrong way but here's hopin we don see each otha again," Meowth smiled.

"I'm not sure whether I should be happy or worried about that," Ash admitted.

"Go for the happy option," Jessie suggested, "You and your Pikachu won't have to worry about random pitfalls anymore or that every trio of strangers you meet is actually us."

Sarah and Frank decidedly let that statement fly over their heads.

"We'll see each other again," Brock announced with such conviction that Ash found himself believing those words.

Brock and the Rockets were the first to turn away once their pokémon had said their goodbyes. Ash continued to stare at their backs, watching them grow smaller and smaller as the seconds passed. Occasionally Brock would glance back to see Ash still standing in the same place, but after a few hills they lost sight of each other.

He's gonna be okay. There's nothing from here to Viridian that they can't handle. He's made this trip a dozen times. He's not alone. Jessie, James, and Meowth will be with him. They'll be okay too. They're gonna be fine.

Ash nodded to himself and wiped the moisture from the corner of his eyes.

Why am I getting all sentimental about Team Rocket? They've been tricking, trapping, and bothering me for years. They're the last people I should care about. Sure they helped get us here but that doesn't undo all the years of barging into my life and trying to take away my pokémon. I shouldn't even care about what happens to them from now on. As long as they protect Brock they can all go di-

Pikachu watched Ash clench his fists until they were white and shaking. He scampered over and grabbed him by his pant leg. The boy's hands relaxed and he looked down to his starter with a weak smile and turned around. Dawn noticed the movement and gave him a hopeful grin, Frank and Sarah mirrored her expression.

They've been waiting for me. How long have I been standing here? They could've said something but they… I shouldn't keep them waiting. They want to make it to the airport and go home and… home. Mom, Mimey, Tracy, and Professor Oak. They're okay. Everyone's going to be okay.

"Let's get a move on," Ash did his best to meld some steel into his words.

"Lead the way," Frank replied and gestured to the road.

***

A few hours had passed when Ash suddenly stopped and looked around.

"This is where it happened. Remember, Pikachu?"

"Pi…" the mouse's tone was wistful.

Dawn, Frank, and Sarah were a few feet behind the pair when he spoke and paused to look around the area, seeing only the scenic tranquility they had come to associate with Kanto.

"What're you talking about, Ash?" Dawn asked, moving up to face him when he didn't answer.

"This is where Pikachu and I first became friends," Ash began, his gaze fixated on one particular spot on the road.

"Pikachu didn't like me at first and wouldn't listen to me from the moment I got him. He wouldn't even help me catch another pokémon, so I tried to catch one by myself. I ended up making a spearow really angry and he got his friends to attack us," Ash chuckled and was surprised he could even look back on what had been such a terrifying moment with any humor.

"I grabbed a bike to try and get away and that worked for a while until it started to rain. We fell and the spearow were catching up."

Ash could see the phantom of the boy now, lying on the ground beside his fallen starter. Dawn looked at the boy and felt as though Ash was staring right through her.

"Pikachu got hurt…"

"Pikachu, get inside,"the boy showed his starter the pokéball.

"I know you're afraid of going in there, but if you're inside maybe I can save you."

The mouse continued to stare.

"Please Pikachu," the boy pleaded, "Please listen to me and go inside. After that then, after that just trust me!"

The mouse continued to stare.

"Pikachu, go inside the pokéball, it's the only way," the boy set the capture sphere on the ground and turned away.

"… So I tried to get the spearow to focus on me," Ash continued.

The seasoned trainer studied the ghost of his past, struggling to his feet, facing the flock with his arms outstretched and with a vow on his lips, with promises of greatness and pokémon mastery. A twinge of envy for his younger self flashed in his mind.

He has no idea how lucky he is right now. No clue as to what the next few years will be like. What he'll see, what he'll do. Knowing what I know now, would I have done things differently?

Ash let his gaze drift to the ghostly shape of Misty's bike on the road. The memory of her face, her voice, the color of her hair brought forth a wave of warmth that spread throughout his core and to the tips of his fingers. Even with all the yelling, hitting, and being lost in the woods for weeks at a time, he treasured those memories. The meals with Brock and camping out under a glittering night sky. The places he'd seen, the people he'd met, the battles he'd had.

No. I'd do it all over again. I wouldn't change a thing.

"Pikachu came in at the last second and blasted them all away. Since then we've been best friends." Pikachu beamed and nuzzled into his trainer. Ash pet his starter and with his free hand reached into his pocket, pulling out a pokéball. He pressed the release button once to enlarge it, then again to open it. Dawn had expecting someone from Ash's party to appear but when no flash came, Dawn realized that Ash had opened Pikachu's pokéball. Pikachu hopped off Ash's shoulder and stared curiously at his own pokéball.

"Never again," Ash whispered with a smile, grabbing each half of the device and slamming the hinge over his rising knee. A harsh snap filled the air, followed by a blue glow that suddenly outlined Pikachu's body and just as quickly faded away.

"Ash, what are you doing?" Dawn yelled. The look in Ash's expression was one of peace, a look she hadn't seen on the boy in days.

"After the first day of my journey I've never had to put Pikachu in his pokéball because I never needed to. Being forced into that situation when we were on the boat, I hated it. After what happened there, if there's punishment for me and they try and take my pok... my friends, then I'd want them to be free."

Ash cast the broken halves of the pokéball onto the grass and plopped down to the ground, scooting over and sitting before his starter.

"Ya got that? You're not my Pikachu. You don't belong to anyone. For me, you'll always be my best friend. If you want we can keep traveling together or you can go and live your life…you're free now."

There was no fear in his voice, no threat of anger for either option. Dawn recognized the look in Ash's eyes and knew that he was serious about what he was saying. Pikachu's eyes started to shimmer before he closed them and shook his head, laughing for a moment then launching himself into Ash's arms.

"I'll take that as a yes," Ash laughed back and hugged his starter even tighter.

Frank and Sarah were practically glowing, their glee was contagious enough that Dawn found herself smiling as well. Frank moved over and helped the boy to his feet.

"Ash, do you know if your parents or even maybe your grandparents are Ransaian?"

The question blindsided him, a thoughtful expression took over his face as he struggled to recall any clues as to his heritage.

"I've never asked my mom and she's never mentioned where my dad was from. Why?"

"You may not have the Perfect Link like we do, but the relationship you have with Pikachu is certainly reminiscent of one," Sarah commented.

"A perfect link?"

"The people of our region find that there are certain pokémon that one can form stronger connections with than others. Not for lack of trying, mind you, but for some pokémon it's just easier to connect with them or the connection is much deeper than if you tried with another pokémon," Frank elaborated.

"The Link let's us feel a pokémon's emotions and vice versa. It empowers them and can even cause them to reach their next stage of evolution depending on how synchronized they are with a human. The level of synchronization can depend on things like pokemon's typing and the personality of both parties. Frank and I found that we connected best with starly, more than any other pokémon."

"It's actually how we first met," Frank added, giving Sarah's hand a quick squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.

"As you can see, our Link was strong enough to allow the starly to evolve all the way into staraptor. Frank and I were thinking that if you were a Ransaian you'd probably have perfect synchronization with Pikachu."

"I guess I can ask mom if our family ever came from Ransei when I see her," Ash replied, glancing up at the blue skies above him. For a moment he was a boy again, starting off on his journey and bearing witness to a golden and mysterious pokémon as it flew across the sky and left prismatic trail in its path.

Ho-oh. That day was also the first time I saw you. With all the craziness that's going on in the world, I hope wherever he is that he's okay.

***

A pair of eyes watched at the boy and his starter from a dozen meters away.

Could it be? Might that human be the one Ivec spoke of?

From so far away he couldn't be sure.

But if I'm not sure, if I bring wrong info to Ivec then.

The leaves on the branch shuddered with him at the thought, and so he watched and waited. He dared not blink, he dared not breathe. Only once his targets were well out of sight did he finally let himself relax, dropping from the branch now indented by his feet.

It's just like in the tales. The colors he wears, the other creature with him. Ivec will want to hear of this.


	17. Hits Home

August 20

***

"Aim it here, Jess."

The circle of light flitted over to her partner's position, then to where he pointed. Unsurprisingly, only more wreckage of Giovanni's former gym building was revealed. James hefted a hunk of cinderblock then let it slip from his fingers to join the rest of the wreckage beneath his feet.

"Looks like we missed da party," Meowth dryly commented, kicking a piece of rubble across the pile.

"I guess this settles it. Whatever was happening in Sinnoh is happening everywhere else too," Jessie pouted, sitting atop another mound of rubble that her Seviper had coiled around and kept dimly lit with the purple glow of her tail.

"Maybe da boss meant de otha HQ?"

"You mean the one on route 24," James offered.

"It's possible."

"Dat'll take us foreva ta get dere if we walk. We gotta contact'em an let'em know where we are. Know any otha bases we could hit up?"

The rocket duo mulled over the question for several minutes. One would toss out the name of a location only for the other to shoot it down as being too far away or no longer holding an active base. They brainstormed for a few minutes before James' eyes lit up.

"Vermillion City! By the docks, there should be a communications hub we could use to get in contact with the base and ask for transport, or at least find out what our next orders are?"

"Would still take us ova two weeks ta get dere by foot, an that's if we cut tru da forest."

Jessie's face suddenly brightened up as she jumped to her feet.

"Not if we find us a car," Jessie sang. "The boss keeps his luxury cars in a private parking garage somewhere here in the city. If at least one of them survived all of this destruction, we can make it to Vermillion in no time at all."

Meowth's paw came to his chin, doing the mental math in his head.

"We'd havta keep ta da main roads insteada cuttin tru da forest, but wit everyting dats been goin on, I'd ratha not take any chances wit any pokémon in da woods."

"We'll be passing through Pewter City then, right?" James tried to say casually, but the gist of the question wasn't lost on his partners. Jessie crossed her arms disapprovingly. She looked at her Seviper and Meowth before letting her arms fall to the side.

"We'll ask the big twerp if he wants to come with us. Having a few more pokémon handy wouldn't be the worst thing right now. He'll help us look for a car in the morning."

James kept his back to them and looked at the sky so that they couldn't see his smile.

"Maybe he's had more luck den us," Meowth sighed.

"Let's just hope that he at least found us a place to sleep," James took Jessie's hand and helped her down from the mound.

Brock had taken it upon himself to look through the abandoned houses of Vermillion in hopes of finding supplies and a place to bunk for the night. After an hour of searching the trio realized the daunting task of looking for a single teen in an empty city.

In the dead of night.

Where there was no power.

Wobbuffet was still recovering from his wounds on the cruise ship while Mime Jr., being the youngest of the group, had gone to sleep. This meant their last and only line of defense were Meowth and Seviper. Despite the insistence from the two pokémon that Brock and their group were alone in the city, Jessie and James disliked the idea of calling out for him and giving away their positions.

"Viper sev se-viper Se-vi per."

Jessie's curious expression shifted over to the Team's mascot.

"Meowth, what'd she say?"

"She said dat she finds it weird dat she hasn't seen a single human in de area. Not even a body."

"That is a little weird," James looked around as if expecting corpses to materialize around them.

"Maybe everyone fled the city?" Jessie suggested.

"Do you think the boss might've evacuated them?" James offered.

"If dats da case den da foist part of our motto might finally make se-"

A harsh hiss cut Meowth off, the duo looking to their mascot once more.

"Sevi's pickin up someone." Meowth's hushed reply was enough to make their hearts beat faster.

"Brock?"

Another hiss.

"She says it's different… heavier," Meowth's voice trailed off, his eyes trained on something darting into the middle of the street. The figure was down the block and even with Meowth's nightvision he could only make out that it had a vaguely humanoid shape, but with a pair of antenna atop its head. It faced them for a few heartbeats, then burst into a run towards them.

Meowth's expression turned predatory, his arms outstretched and claws fully extended. Seviper had coiled in on herself and reared her head back, baring her crimson fangs while the blade of her tail took on a sinister purple glow.

"Get back, we'll handle dis," Meowth growled, feeling the hairs on his body raise. Jessie and James backed away, more from the ferocity in Meowth's voice than from any fear of this new opponent. Seviper's body was like a coiled spring, ready to launch herself once this new opponent came within range.

Yet their adversary never did.

A few meters shy of reaching them their opponent came to a complete stop. Even beneath the meager light of their flashlight, Jessie and James could make out some of the individual's features. He was human if one could look past the layers of scaled maroon armor that covered his body, save for a pair of straw sandals on his feet. What Meowth had taken for antenna was a golden V-shaped crest atop his helmet. An armored hand ghosted over the hilt of his blade, still in its pearlescent sheath and strapped to his waist.

"I mean you no harm, but all of you need to leave this place as soon as you can."

"Or what?" Jessie growled defiantly.

"Or your death will be as swift as the swarm's return."

***

The spearow scout fidgeted in place atop the branch, making sure to never look up past the branches ahead of him. Kaua needed only to focus on the sea of bones beneath him as a reminder of those who had disobeyed Ivec. He could feel the stares of the flock all around him, peering between the leaves or openly from their branches.

Watching.

Judging.

Wondering if he would be the next failure to join the pile below. For some, he was the entertainment for that morning, for others it was just routine.

Kaua could hear the bark beneath Ivec's talons crunch in his grip. The sound alone would've made him relieve himself right there on the branch were there anything to expel from his body.

In Ivec's domain there were only two groups. Ones that had bothered Ivec, and those that had yet to. The former now decorated the floor.

Ivec chuckled. It was a sound Kaua had never heard before and wasn't sure if it was a good sign. He trembled so violently several feathers fell from him.

"You have done well."

The news should've comforted him, should've brought him some measure of relief. And yet, all he could manage was to shiver in place.

"I shall see that the share you and your kin receive is increased and I will personally take you under my wing so that you may ascend to your next form." The warmth in Ivec's voice was one Kaua had never known their leader to possess.

"I am unworthy of your k-kindness," Kaua managed to reply and bowed even lower.

"Tonight, you will eat your fill and rest. You will need all of your strength for your journey."

"J-journey… your magnificence?"

"Look upon me," Ivec crowed.

Kaua slowly lifted his head, witnessing the leader of his flock one inch at a time. Only one eye looked back at him, the other eye had been lost well before Kaua had been hatched. Scars born of countless battles covered his chest and beak, sections of his crimson crest were missing, and the edges of his wings had started to gray and fray.

He was an old fearow to be sure, one of the oldest of any nest. At first glance one would think the years had not been kind to Ivec, that he was old and weak. It had inspired challengers to vie for control of the flock. Kaua needed only look back down to see how they had faired.

"You will go to neighboring nests and tell them to rally their best fighters and send them to me. Tell them that the day I have prepared them for has come. It is time that they repay their debts to me."

"Your gloriousness, which of the nests am I going to?"

Ivec laughed. A laugh so cold that Kaua found he could no longer shiver.

"Ah young one, you will go to all of them."

***

Ash's strength returned in full the moment he saw the dilapidated picket fence hugging the dirt road. It stretched off into the distance, dipping in and out of view with the rolling hills. The street lamps by each house weren't lit but Ash could make out his town. His eyes traced the dirt path as it split and branched out to other homes and striated fields of wheat and other crops. Round and conical trees dotted the landscape, growing thicker the higher as Ash lifted his gaze to the mountain range that crowned the horizon.

"We're home," Ash huffed with every pant, soaring down the dirt path and leaving all memories of exhaustion behind him. He could hear Dawn's footsteps growing fainter as he ran, ignoring her distant pleas for him to slow down. Ash couldn't stop, he wouldn't stop. His body felt so light it felt as though each step barely grazed the ground. He wasn't so much as running as being reeled back to his home.

The cookie cutter houses were even harder to tell apart in the dead of night, but Ash knew this town like the back of his hand and could've made his way home with his eyes closed. In the corner of his eye he could make out the windmill of Professor Oak's lab atop the town's highest hill. Thoughts of Tracy, the Professor, and even his pokémon were pushed aside for the single thought that seized the entirety of his focus. There was one place he needed to check first, one person he needed to see before anything else mattered.

Pikachu leapt off his shoulder and darted ahead of him, lighting the way with sparks from his cheeks. That's when Ash saw the red tiled roof and the gabled windows, the orange mailbox and his mother's garden. Pikachu was a few meters from the house when he abruptly reared back, sniffed the air, and made no attempt to move. His worried cry didn't reach the boy who'd already hopped the white fence around his house. Pikachu cried out again but Ash's hands were already turning the knob to the front door.

"Mom, I'm ho-"

Ash froze at the entryway when the light from Pikachu's sparks reached into the living room and unveiled the fallen picture frames and shattered lamp.

"M-mom?" the boy called out again., The word quivered as he spoke it. Ash slowly inched forward and winced when the crunch of glass was the first sound to reply. It felt as though a cold anvil had dropped inside of him, sending his stomach into knots and leaving him with the taste of bile. The boy pressed forward. His breath hitched with every crunch; he could feel the hairs on his body stand on end.

"Ma… mom I'm… I'm ho-" the words were wet and full of questions. Ash looked about the room in a daze.

He didn't understand; couldn't understand. He was home. He made it through all those horrible things to make it here. Everything was supposed to be okay. Things were always okay when he came back. He was home. Things didn't happen here. Nothing ever happened here. That's why he left. That's why he had to leave. Things were happening out there in the world and he wasn't going to miss them. He was home. Mom was supposed to be waiting for him like she always did. She'd ask him about his journey, nodding and smiling at everything he told her.

He was home.

***

Tracy awoke with a start, reflexively grabbing the metal pipe resting on the arm of the couch where he'd been sleeping. He looked around the candlelit room until his focus settled on the furry purple form standing by the entrance. Tracy groaned, slumping back onto the couch and tried to still his frantically beating heart. A metallic clatter filled the air when he let the pipe fall from his grip and dragged his hands across his face.

I finally fell asleep. When did that happen? When was the last time I slept? Why did Venonat wake me? He knows to leave me alone unless…

Two fingers parted and exposed a bloodshot eye to the world. Venonat waited patiently.

"Did the professor…?" He let the question hang over them. He'd braced himself for this. It was always the first question to enter his mind the instant he woke up in the last four days. He'd steeled himself every time he opened the door to Oak's room and found the man still breathing.

Venonat shook his head at his question, which was more like a full body turn. Tracy wanted to sigh in relief, wanted to thank the heavens above that his fears had not come to pass, but the news brought him no comfort.

Am I a bad person if I just want him to… if I want him to finally be at peace? I hate seeing him like this but I'm stuck watching him suffer. The town's doctor is dead and even if one were here to help, he's too far gone to be saved. I can't help him and I can't… end it all. He hasn't asked me to and all I can do is keep dosing him until he…

Tracy let the thoughts echo through his mind for what seemed like the thousandth time.

"Then why did you wake me?" he groused, watching the bug point to the window behind him. Tracy's eyes widened, hand darting down to where the pipe had fallen until he saw that it was still dark out.

"Is it the Fearow? But they've never come out at night."

Another full-bodied shake.

"Then what?"

The bug then lowered his hand and jabbed the air in his direction.

Tracy quizzically pointed to himself, the realization dawning on him after a few seconds.

"Humans! Other humans!"

The bug nodded then hopped back when Tracy jumped off the couch.

"Ven, wake up Quilava and Donphan and have them meet me outside." Tracy hopped around the room, frantically pulling on his shoes and tying his laces. The bug shuffled away and did as he was told, assembling the group and waiting for him at the bottom of the steps. Tracy descended the stairs a few minutes later, his metal pipe still in hand. He was about to give his first order when he noted some extras in the group.

Mimey, Delia's Mr. Mime, and Ash's Bayleaf gave him a look that dared him to try and send them away.

"Okay, you win. You guys can come too, but let's not get too excited yet. Donphan, do you have a fresh scent of Ash or Pikachu?"

The armor pokémon lifted his trunk and took a few experimental sniffs, processing each and every scent lingering in the air, no matter how faint. Tracy didn't have to wait long to get his answer when Donphan smiled, nodding so forcefully that it looked like he was hopping.

"I can't believe it. He's back," Tracy whispered amidst the cries of happiness between Ash's pokémon.

"Alright then. Quilava, light and lead the way. Ven, let me know if there's anything else coming into town."

The fire starter's backside burst into flame, lifting the veil of night from the area. Tracy was the first to break off into a run, quickly being outpaced by most of the pokémon save Bulbasaur and Mimey.

***

Dawn braced herself against her shaking knees, gulping down mouthfuls of air as she waiting for Sarah and Frank to catch up. Beyond the pounding of her heart and intakes of breath the only sound permeating the air was the crackling of Chimchar's flame. Pikachu had disappeared into Ash's home having said something to Chimchar before darting off. The fire starter looked about the town, something that Dawn had actively tried to avoid.

Looking around Pallet Town reminded her too much of Twinleaf Town. While there were no ariados or sandstorms the town looked as though it had weathered similar abuse. She could see shards of glass scattered along the lawn and road from every shattered window, how they caught the flickering light from Chimchar's flame.

Dawn squinted into the distance, barely making out the forms of Sarah and Frank walking towards her. Ash's muffled shouts filtered through the doorway, his voice growing more desperate with every repetition. Dawn understood the feeling all too well. It had only been a few days since she had watched her own mother get taken by the ariados.

She knew there was no basis for her hope that her mother was still alive. In her heart, in her soul, something told her that her mom had gotten out of Twinleaf and was waiting for her. She wasn't blind, she knew the looks Ash and Brock gave her every time she brought the subject up. They had resigned themselves to accepting that Roark and her mother had died. Admittedly there had been moments where she wondered if they were right, if she was just deluding herself to stave off the pain.

Hope was her only lifeline in a churning sea of darkness; black waves battering her until she lost the strength to hold on. She stubbornly refused, struggling to keep her head above the murky surface. If she let go, if she let herself sink into those depths, she wasn't sure if she could ever breach the surface again. Brock had been instrumental in helping her afloat since the separation.

But Brock's not here to help Ash.

"Chimchar, stay here for Sarah and Frank."

The starter nodded quietly and watched the coordinator cautiously make her way to the front door. A half-opened door was hardly an invitation for her to enter, even with Ash's earlier offers about letting the three of them sleep at his place for the night. They had worked out the sleeping arrangements on the road, but with the state of things now, she couldn't help but wonder if the offer still held any weight.

The more she opened the door, the less likely it seemed.

Upturned furniture bleeding fluff into the air, the walls around her more pockmarked than paint, and a sea of shattered items that nearly eclipsed the floor. Each step sent a chill down her spine, the crunch of glass beneath her boots sounding more pronounced in the silence. She soldiered onwards, reaching the base of the stairs where Chimchar's light grew dimmer with every step.

"Think you can light the way with some sparks?" Dawn's breath caressed the glossy curve of the pokéball. She pressed the release button twice and watched Pachirisu materialize atop the steps. The elesquirrel nodded. Tiny bolts flickered from his cheeks, casting everything in a soft blue glow.

The damage to the walls lessened the higher she ascended, as though the second floor had been untouched.

"Ash?" Dawn's heartrate quickened at the lack of response until one of the doors down the hallway opened. Pikachu peeked outside, offering a weak smile before darting back into the room. Ash's voice could be heard clearly now and it was a sound that Dawn had never thought she'd ever hear from the boy she had traveled with.

Pachirisu slipped in first, the light from his body shunting back the shadows by the time she stepped in. Ash was in the middle of the room, lying atop a bed and clutching the sheets until his knuckles were white. Pikachu had scampered back over to him, resting one of his paws on his arm in the only form of consolation he could think of. Dawn stepped close enough to see the side of his face, leaking eyes locked onto a work desk at the end of the room.

Atop it sat a sewing machine, surrounded by swaths of different colored fabrics that draped along the table's edge.

"She's not here."

***

Tracy took note of two people standing by Ash's house, both of which were too tall to be either Ash or Brock. Three pokémon he didn't recognize were also among them, two of which circled above them while the third illuminated the area with a flame on its body.

Tracy took a few steps towards the pair when their flying pokémon glanced at him and he felt the blood in his body run cold. He could hear the pokémon behind him shifting into defensive stances while every synapse in his brain was telling him to drop his pipe and run away. Tracy dug his heels into the ground, grit his teeth, and forced his hand to grip the pipe even tighter.

Why am I suddenly on edge out of nowhere? I don't even know these people…unless…

"Donphan, do these two smell like Team Rocket?"

Donphan's nose lifted once more and took a large intake of air. There would be no mistaking their scent at this distance. After a few months of traveling with Ash and hearing of his escapades in the years prior, Tracy had come to understand that wherever Ash went, Team Rocket wasn't too far behind.

Tracy's thoughts were suddenly derailed when Donphan shook his head side to side.

"You're sure?"

The armor pokémon nodded.

"We don't want any trouble." The woman's tone wasn't threatening but it wasn't without warning. Tracy looked down at himself and realized what he must've looked like to other people. Wild and unkempt hair, tattered clothes with blackened swaths of dried bloodstains, and a dented metal pipe in hand.

"I'm just looking for a friend." Tracy lowered his impromptu weapon to his side. "His name is Ash Ketchum. Red hat, black hair, and has a Pikachu that's always outside of its pokéball."

The pair glanced at each other and nodded.

"They went inside that house with Dawn."

Any questions of who Dawn was were swept beneath the dismay of not catching Ash before he entered his home.

"Dammit," Tracy hissed and looked to the battered picket fence, at the various plants of Delia's garden.

In the last few days Tracy had fought off and killed several pokémon, knowing that every time he entered the fray he might not come out alive. Now he faced a battle where his only weapons were words, words that would cut and leave scars.

"He's in there now, isn't he?"

The pair nodded back. "He's with Dawn."

Tracy didn't bother asking who "Dawn" was, assuming it was another one of Ash's traveling companions.

"Do you know if there was someone else traveling with him? Dark skin, squinty eyes?"

"Brock." The woman answered, and from the lack of any sadness in her tone, Tracy found a glimmer of hope that the breeder was still somewhere and alive.

"He was with us before he went with Jessie, James, and Meowth up to Viridian City on the way to see his family," Frank explained.

Tracy shook his head; the implications of that team-up were lost on him. As much as he wanted to press for more info, there was someone else he needed to talk to.

"Donphan, stay here with these two and keep a perimeter. Bayleaf and Mimey, let's go inside."

"Should we expect something to attack us?" the woman asked.

"Anything's possible," was the most diplomatic and honest answer Tracy could give them just before he stepped through the front door of the Ketchum residence. Nothing had changed since he'd been here a few days ago, not that he expected anything to be different. And yet, the idea that Ash had seen all of this damage renewed Tracy's despair. He glanced back at Mimey but the psychic was keeping his eyes to the floor.

Tracy steeled himself and made his way up the steps, pausing only when he heard voices coming from the room ahead of them. He could only make out two voices and no matter how quietly he moved he couldn't make out what they were saying. It was only once he stood behind the door to Delia's room that he heard the voice of a young girl on the other side.

"She might have gone someplace safer, Ash. Downstairs was a mess, everything up here looks fine. Maybe she went to the poetry guy's place?"

"Pi-ka Pi."

"Maybe you're right," Ash replied with a sniff.

Tracy's hand hovered over the doorknob, paralyzed with fear and remorse for what he was about to do. Bayleaf watched and waited patiently while Mimey sat at the top of the stairs and hung his head.

I have to tell him! It'll only hurt worse if I let him get his hopes up. But why does it have to be me? Why do I have to be that guy?

Tracy's hand clenched into a fist, lifting it higher and rapping the door three times. The silence lasted a few heartbeats until Tracy opened the door.

A girl with blue hair backed away from the door but the boy on the edge of the bed rose to his feet.

"Tracy!"

No. Don't smile at me. Don't be happy to see me. …

"Tracy?" The pain on the artist's face was almost palpable to everyone in the room in the room.

"Ash…"

What do I even say? How can I say this without hurting him? No. No matter what say it's going to hurt him. I want to lie, spare him the grief? He deserves to know what happened, but at what cost? Dammit, why is this so hard? It's just a few words and then it's done.

Tracy's vision blurred, his breathing grew shallow. A fat tear rolled down his nose and hung precariously from the edge.

No. It's not over when I say it. Ash will still be there. I'll have to watch it destroy him and pick up the pieces.

"Your… mom… "

Every lungful of air felt dedicated solely to his next word. Ash's body stiffened. Eyes widened, pupils shrunk to pinpricks. Tracy wondered whether he even needed to finish. He already knew what was coming. But Tracy pushed on and forced the words through his lips.

"She… Your mom, didn't make it… I'm sorry."


	18. Something Winged This Way Comes

August 21

***

A soft yellow blush began to swell where the sky kissed the mountaintops, the first hint of sunrise. The blanket of clouds grew thin; strips of blue sky managed to peek through. Phantom squawks of a dodrio echoed in Mimey's mind. It was a cry he hadn't heard in several days. With the wave of his glowing hand the blinds were drawn, casting the room back into darkness.

Mimey eased back into Delia's work chair and went back to watching the rise and fall of Ash Ketchum's chest. Every gentle snore was like music to his ears and he wanted more than anything to keep that melody going for as long as he could.

I'll keep him safe, Delia. I swear it.

To Ash's right, a ball of yellow fur rested on a pillow. Mimey noted when the starter suddenly twitched, and watched Pikachu slowly uncurl. The mouse glanced about the room before resting his gaze on Mimey. He held the stare for a heartbeat and quietly rolled off the bed. He crept towards him, freezing when a translucent cube materialized around him and the mime.

"We can talk normally in here without waking Ash."

Pikachu eased back onto his hindlegs and plopped down onto the floor. For a long time neither one spoke. Pikachu studied the floorboards while Mimey stared down at him.

"How did she… when did it happen?" Pikachu's eyes were still trained on the floorboards.

"It was…" Mimey seemed to deflate with a shuddering breath, "has it really been four days?"

"Where is she? Is she… is there anything left?"

Mimey closed his eyes and sniffled then nodded slowly.

"She's in…" His lips moved to make the sounds but words failed him. He leaned back, arms hanging lifelessly at his sides. "… in her garden." He half-hiccupped, half-laughed. Mimey thought he'd moved past this, that he'd shed enough tears for his friend, but it had been the first time he had spoken to anyone about what happened.

Tracy didn't have time to talk about it. There was always something that needed to be done, and why tell him what he already knew? He'd been the one to pronounce her dead. The others didn't know Delia like he did and even then, they were grieving for others they'd also lost that night.

"Who from our group did we lose?"

"We lost nearly all of Ash's Tauros." Pikachu winced but clearly wasn't heartbroken about the news.

"How many are left?"

"Just the one. He says it's probably because Ash had given him a bit more training than the others that he left here."

"Anyone else?"

"We think Swellow got hit by one of us the night this all started. No one's admitted that they did it, but it might just be that they don't even remember with everything that was happening. I… don't really remember what happened that night myself."

"Did you at least hear the words?"

"Words?"

"When it happened to me and the others, Buizel and I heard a voice tell us something."

Mimey nodded. "There was some talk about that around the ranch, though the beedrill and fearow didn't really give us much time to dwell on it. That's when we lost Heracross."

"The fearow," Pikachu echoed, his fur bristling. "Were they the ones that killed Ash's mom?" Mimey's hands gripped his knees tightly, bowing his head and shaking it.

"I… I wasn't… awake when she died." Every shudder added more tears to the floorboards. "A lot of humans and pokémon died that night. By the time I woke up it was already over. If it weren't for the grass types Bulbasaur acted as ambassador for, a lot of your friends wouldn't have made it out that night."

"How did you make it?"

"When my powers started going out of control I must've set up barriers that didn't let anyone get to... "

Mimey's sudden silence prompted Pikachu to lift his gaze from the ground.

"Tracy's… here?" The psychic rose from his chair, effortlessly pushing aside one of the psychic panels that formed their box, and made for the door. He slipped through the door, opening and closing it like it was made of cracked glass. Tracy was halfway up the steps by then, expression hardened and grim. Another translucent panel shimmered into existence over the door before Tracy could start to talk.

"Is Ash up yet?"

Mimey shook his head.

"I need him up. Oak asked to see him."

Mimey gave a sidelong glance to the door then stared back at him. A solid minute passed where nothing happened. Tracy's hand tightened around the pipe before relaxing his grip. A raging tackle and a point blank shot from a tank hadn't even put a scratch on one of Mimey's screens. If anyone was going to enter that room, it was because Mimey allowed it.

In the days Mimey had spent with Tracy, the battles he'd watched him partake, the wounds he'd received, and the pokémon he'd seen them lose, not once had he seen Tracy shed any tears. Tracy was on his knees now, pipe abandoned on the floor.

"Please, Mimey. Oak doesn't have much time left. This is probably going to be his… his final request. Let me at least give him that, Mimey. You've seen him, you know what he's gone through and this is the only thing I can do for him. I know Ash doesn't need this, he doesn't need to be hurt again by seeing the professor this way. I know he's still be hurting because of his mom. How he never got to say goodbye… but he can with Oak. He still has that chance, they both do. Just let them have that chance."

***

Ivec nodded approvingly to each fearow perched upon the branches of his tree. They would be the first of many to answer his summons and it occurred to him that if this was to continue he was going to need a bigger tree. A shadow darted over him, the branch beneath him bobbed from the added weight.

"You've done well, Ukeke." Ivec looked to his right and saw the Fearow who led the newcomers.

"What is this about, Ivec?" the bird grumbled.

"What it has always been about. The human and his rodent have returned!" Ivec crowed.

"You cannot be serious," Ukeke sighed.

"Oh, but I am. We can finally reclaim our glory."

"Ivec," Ukeke pleaded, "This is beneath us. Beneath you. This is but a mere human and one creature. They have not bothered us in several winters and they don't appear even remotely interested in our affairs, lest we provoke them."

"The human and his rodent slighted us!"

"He threw a stone at you," Ukeke deadpanned.

"His rodent companion has burned us with lightning on several occasions."

"You are the only one left who cares anymore. Let it go, Ivec. Be at peace," Ukeke implored. "You have everything our kind could ever want."

Ivec's remaining eye stared at him with such an intensity that Ukeke felt the need to shift away.

"I do not need you to share in my hatred for that human and his pet. I only need you and your flock to obey my commands. I helped you ascend to your current form, showed you how to make others achieve the same. The power you possess is because of me!" Ivec squawked in his face.

"Have I asked for anything since then? For food? For territory? For mating rights? No. I have only ever asked for one thing and it is that you and your flock join me in my time of need. That time is now. It is a small price to pay."

"I have heard that a number of your flock has dwindled as of late. Felled in their attempts to attack the humans."

"Only a few humans remain. Most of our losses have been incurred by the creatures that have allied themselves with the humans."

"Speaking of allies, what are we to do about the Pidgeot and his flock? As I recall their leader was a companion to the human you hate so much."

"Worry not," he chuckled, "He and his flock are no longer a problem."

***

Half a mile away, Azumarill's ears twitched, followed by the rest of her body shivering. Sceptile had been fiddling with the twig in his mouth and fought the ever-present urge to ask her what she'd heard. The aqua rabbit turned to him, grim-faced and paler than he was used to seeing her.

"We need to leave. Now."

"Did they spot us?" he asked, he leaves on his forearms already taking on a greenish glow.

"No, but they're preparing a large-scale assault on the ranch. We need to warn Tracy and others."

"Hop on then," the forest pokémon turned and gestured to his back. Azumarill did as she was told, holding onto his shoulders and bracing herself for the ride. In the span of a heartbeat she watched the forest around her stretch into green streaks.

***

"We're getting close," Sarah yelled over the roar of the wind, hoping her husband could hear her. Frank nodded, sending his intent through the Link to Blitz. His staraptor obliged and began the slow descent to the earth miles below them. Windsheer did the same, letting gravity do the work. They coasted along the air currents until only a dozen meters was all that separated them from their shadows on the ground.

The sun was high in the sky. Cool winds counteracted the oppressive heat bearing down on them. Frank thought to the last time he and Blitz had flown like this, and though it had only been a few days ago, Frank felt it was still far too long to go without feeling the wind through his hair.

Flying was like second nature to those of the Avia in Ransei. Frank had been flying on his father's pokémon for years before he even got his driver's license. He loved looking at the world below, feeling tall and yet so small at the same time. He relished the moments of mental clarity he felt up there, how he could forget all his troubles and bask in the rushing winds, letting the sound fill his ears.

Kanto's terrain wasn't too different from what Ransei's used to be. Much of the natural countryside was eventually paved over for the industrial cityscapes. Frank was sure other parts of Kanto were similar, but it pleased him to see this part of the world spread out before him like a terrestrial quilt. Each crease was a mountain range, every dark patch a field ripe for the harvest.

But those farms are empty now. Frank's brow furrowed. They had gone down to several farms only to find them abandoned, some with food still on the table and others with signs of a struggle. Someone or something had taken them, though with Tracy's mission, there wasn't time to go and find the perpetrator.

They had spent the night with Dawn and Tracy at Professor Oak's lab, but the man himself never came down to meet them. The night the chaos started, Oak was hit by one of the pokémon and has struggled to recover ever since. As a nurse, Sarah went to see if anything could be done to save him.

Whatever smidgen of hope Tracy had garnered was taken when she returned and told him there was little she could do besides make him comfortable in the time he had left. From what she could tell, the man didn't have more than a day in him and that it was remarkable he had even made it this long. Even if they did have the proper medical supplies and equipment, whatever chance they had to save him had passed several days ago.

Tracy refused to give up and asked them to check the airport for any medical supplies that Sarah might be able to use. Seeing as it was their next destination they didn't see the harm in doing as they were told. If they found anything, Sarah would head back with any supplies they found, do what she could for Oak, and head back to the airport with Dawn.

Blitz and Windshear touched ground in the middle of a large parking lot sparsely populated with cars. The place was littered with thick shards of glass and plastic; the countless skid marks left little to the imagination. The cars left behind had seen better days, intact cars pushed out of their spaces meeting crumpled balls of colored steel.

Blitz and Windsheer kept watch while Frank and Sarah scavenged for anything useful in the abandoned cars, occasionally sending their concern through the Link.

It started off low at first, like a phone vibrating from a distance. A few seconds passed before a bolt of fear shot through the Link. Frank and Sarah lifted their heads. The buzz had grown louder. It was closing in from all directions.

***

"He's just beyond that door," Tracy motioned with his chin and started making his way towards the stairs.

"You're… not coming?"

The rasp in Ash's voice surprised Tracy at first, at least until the memory of his screams the previous night echoed in his mind. It had been the first time since then that Ash had even said anything, acting more like a doll when Mimey woke him and Tracy brought him to the lab.

Tracy was already starting to descend the steps when he stopped but didn't turn to face the boy. Couldn't face him. Not yet.

"Whatever Oak needs to tell you, he wanted it to be private."

Tracy's words carried a bitter edge to them, though whether it was because Oak didn't trust him to be there or the overall terrible situation in general was anyone's guess. "Just, don't keep him waiting." With another few steps, he disappeared.

Ash was alone.

Pikachu and Mimey were downstairs with his other pokémon. Dawn had given him a quick hug when he entered Oak's lab but immediately retreated to a safe distance. Ash couldn't blame her, it's what he normally wanted when he was upset or angry. Time to be alone, time to get away from the problem and come back at it with a cool head. But now it was the last thing he wanted. Now he'd welcome anyone to just be next to him, even Team Rocket.

Ash wasn't sure how long he stood there and stared at the door. The concept of passing time felt foreign to him, each thought blanketed in a gray haze. Even the memory of his trip to Oak's lab or Dawn's hug remained elusive now. Sadness was something that he'd always tried to stave off for as long as he could. Every league championship he'd lost, every gym or trainer battle defeat. Dwelling on it wasn't going to help him win. Sadness had its time and place, but there was always the next region, the next battle, the next step to his goal as a pokémon master.

It always pumped him up and kept him going, seeing someone stronger than him just gave him another goal to reach and overcome.

What comes after this? Mom's gone.

Memories of his mother eventually floated back to the surface, but unlike everything else this morning the images were sharp and clear. The world around him started to shimmer, he could feel the tears already forming around his eyes. But he was tired of crying, tired of screaming at the injustice of it all.

Injustice…

The Titantecruel's sneering gaze replaced his mother's warm smile and once again he felt his face start to heat up. Rage grabbed his sorrow by the hair, beating it down and smothering it until it couldn't hurt him anymore. Ash grit his teeth, the pain from clenching his fists so tightly comforted him more than any tears he could've shed. Anger would protect him, anger would keep him from feeling weak and helpless again.

Ash somehow felt, somehow knew that Tracy and Dawn were sitting in the living room immediately below him. He could feel their presence, their worries and fears. Then there was a third presence he could feel, one he had almost overlooked. It was growing smaller and weaker every second. Like the smoldering of coals compared to Tracy and Dawn's embers.

Ash's anger dissipated, and with it the presence disappeared. The boy from Pallet lunged at the door, practically tackling it open.

Am I too late, did he already…

He stumbled into the room and saw the bedridden occupant on the other side.

Ash always knew that Professor Oak was technically old, technically because he'd never come to associate the difficulties of age with him. Old men were hunched over, bearded, wrinkled, and forgetful. The burdens of growing old were reserved for other men, lesser men.

Every time Ash had gone to Pallet or spoken to Oak through the computer, that kindly face was there to smile and greet him. There was life behind his eyes, a warmth in his words. The man exuded an aura of wisdom and love, one that Ash could feel even through the computer screen.

The years had been kind to the man that he had come to love as a grandfather, the man who had been the closest thing to a father figure since his journey began. Ash had simply accepted that things would always be this way, that Oak would remain untouched by time.

Ash refused to accept that the man in the bed was his town's Professor. No aura of wisdom exuded from his gaunt face, no strength behind those dull and unfocused eyes. His face had darkened with stubble, the edges of his withered lips stained with dried drool. White streaks were mixed within his gray hair and a foul smell permeated the air around him.

Ash could only imagine that the man had gone several days without bathing, but there was something else mixed in there too.

A musty odor he'd come to associate with the elderly.

It was wrong. Everything about this man was wrong, and yet no matter how much everything in Ash screamed that this couldn't be his Professor Oak, the look in the man's eyes told him a different story. There was warmth there, one of familiarity and love.

"Ash, my boy." The man wheezed, his arm trembled as it lifted to touch him.

Ash grabbed his hand and fought hard to not wince at the cold and skeletal feeling.

"I'm here, professor."

Oak nodded, then grimaced. His grip had no strength, like the touch of a child. Ash surveyed the bandages wrapped around Oak's midsection, dark stains bleeding through the fabric.

"I'm glad that you're okay. Tracy told me what happened with your mother. I'm so sorry, Ash. She was an incredible woman."

Ash wiped his eyes with his free hand, knowing Oak wasn't trying to prod fresh wounds to hurt him.

"Tracy's been trying so hard to help me. Promise me you'll remind him how grateful I am of everything he's done. You both have so much talent, I would hate for the two of you to lose your way because of my passing. I pray Gary has avoided all of this. If you see him, tell him I love him and that I'm so proud of what he's accomplished. You both have made me so proud." Ash could only tearfully nod against Oak's hand, doing everything in his power to not break down like he had the night before.

"I had hoped I'd a get a chance to speak to you. There was something I needed to tell you, the greatest secret I've ever held."

Ash shifted back slightly. "What… what are you talking about, Professor?"

"When I was about your age I was on my pokémon journey and my travels took me to a place known as Arborville. On that day, I found a Celebi in the forest who took me to the future where I met a boy with his Pikachu," Oak smiled, as if a massive weight had been lifted off his chest. His smile only grew wider as he watched Ash's eyes widen, the pieces coming together in his mind.

"You… you're Sam?"

Oak nodded. "The very same. The things I learned while I was with you helped drive me to become a pokémon professor, one who explored the relationships between pokémon and humans."

Ash's mind was reeling, collecting everything he had every done around Sam during his time in what would've been his future.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Oak felt Ash's grip on his hand loosen slightly.

"At first it was because I was afraid of altering my past. Would you have acted the same around me if you knew who I was going to become?"

Ash entertained the scenario for a few seconds then dipped his head in defeat.

"Exactly. I didn't want to take any chances, so for most of your youth I had kept my distance. You'd told me when we were looking for Celebi that Pikachu was your first pokémon and how he didn't like being put in a pokéball. It was a few months before you would come to me for your first pokémon that I realized that I didn't have a Pikachu to give to you."

"You picked Pikachu for me?"

"Is it any different than picking the Squirtle that Gary would eventually get? I'll have you know that I lost count of how many Pikachu I caught before I found the one that I believed would be your future partner. I had so many I didn't have room for them on the ranch, so I sent a large group to stay in Viridian City's pokémon center."

It dawned on Ash that he had never questioned why there had been so many Pikachu at the Pokémon Center the night he had first met Team Rocket.

"The day you were to start your journey I made sure that Gary and the other two trainers came in early so that the only pokémon left was your Pikachu."

"I get why you didn't tell me before I met Celebi and Suicune, but that was at least two years ago. Why didn't you say anything after the Silver Conference?"

"To be honest I wasn't sure how to broach the subject. I'd figured I would tell you when you were older. There were so many times I could've said something but it never seemed appropriate."

"But then, you knew? You knew what was going to happen to me before I was even born." Ash found he couldn't hide the accusatory tone in his voice. How much of his life had been planned? Had anything been really his choice? Had he ever really earned anything in those two years?

"I didn't know everything. I acted only on what I remembered from our conversations back then. I knew you would befriend Misty and Brock and you'd eventually go to Johto, just not when that would happen. The bonds you've made, the victories you've had, those are yours and yours alone. Your love of pokémon, your battle style and how it has evolved, you forged those on your own. No one can take that from you, not even me. That's why I kept my distance, it's why I didn't have a more direct hand in your growth as a trainer. There was so much that I didn't know but I looked forward to learning about you along the way."

Ash's shoulders relaxed, the grip around Oak's hand growing stronger.

"Watching you grow into the young man you are now has been a privilege, and it seemed poetic that I would set you on your path, just as you set mine."

"I don't know what to say, Professor. I guess, thank you."

"Ash, my boy, it is I that should be thanking you. The years I've known you have been ones that I will always cheri-"

Oak suddenly started coughing, each one looking more painful than the last. Ash edged away and looked to the door.

"Should I get Tracy?"

Oak held up his hand until his coughing fit eventually subsided.

"There's no need to bother him now. It's been a while since I've spoken at length, that's all. Let Tracy know that I'll be resting for a bit."

"Okay, Professor. I'll let him know." Ash lingered by the doorway. He studied the man for several seconds, wondering if this would be the last time he would get to speak to him. A minute passed and Ash eventually relented, slipping out of the room and closing the door behind him. Oak waited, listening for Ash's footsteps until he was sure that the boy had fully retreated to the first floor. Even then he lay in silence for another minute just to be sure.

"You can come out now," he whispered, his eyes wandered the room until he saw the air shimmer in the corner of the room. The blur took form. Blue and shimmering eyes atop a green tear-shaped head. Tiny little wings fluttered as she drew closer and hovered a few inches from him.

"I'm ready now."

"biii?"

"Yes. Thank you for giving me the chance to speak with him. I wouldn't have lasted this long if not for your help."

Celebi wrung her wrists. She could've healed Oak to perfect health without even breaking a sweat, but she could feel Dialga's burning glare through the fabric of time. While her interventions hadn't severely altered fixed events, he wasn't pleased with any temporal distortions that didn't strictly need to happen.

The spirit of the forest grabbed his hand and Oak felt the pain fade away. He felt lighter, like he could just float away.

"Meeting you was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. Thank you… for… every…"

He was gone.

She stayed by him for some time, gently placing his hand back at his side. Ash and Sam were not the ones she had been approved to save. They were too influential, too many events would or could be tied to their actions. In return for the lives of two creatures that Dialga deemed not overly significant to future events she had agreed to stay out of the conflict, that had been the deal.

A golden portal rippled open behind her as she backed away from Oak's body, her gaze never straying from Sam's peaceful expression. She thought back to the night where the butterfree had taken wing for the first time, how every flap of their wings cast dust that glittered like diamonds beneath the moonlight. She remembered sunrise that morning, how two boys sat shoulder to shoulder atop a branch and drank in the sight, and how, to her, their smiles managed to outshine the dawn.


	19. Get the Flock Out

August 21

***

"So… you work for the poetry guy?"

"He did more than just poetry," Tracy's voice carried the warmth of an arctic wind.

"R-right," Dawn shrank, looking down at the piece of bread Tracy had scrounged up for her. "I listened to him a lot over the radio in Sinnoh."

Tracy didn't look like he'd even heard her comment. His back was to her as he peeked through the gaps in the boarded-up window. She'd watched him repeat this ritual for the last few minutes. He paced around the room, as if trying to avoid the window until his resolve crumbled and he gravitated back to glare at the world outside. His battered pipe never left his hands.

So much for small talk. Dawn finished off the bread just in time to hear footsteps from the stairs. Tracy pulled himself away from the window to watch Ash walk into the room.

"He's resting now."

Tracy nodded and didn't pry further. If he was meant to know anything about that conversation, then the professor would've let him stay with Ash. Tracy was about to turn back to the window when Ash spoke again.

"Who hurt him, Tracy?"

The artist could only stare back, into the hardened eyes that someone Ash's age wasn't supposed to have.

"I don't know."

"Was it… one of my pokémon?" Ash's voice grew softer as he finished.

"No, Ash. I-"

"-Then who was it?! Was it one of yours?" Ash's arms trembled, but he held it in.

"Who did it, Tracy?" Ash pressed onward, closing the distance between them.

"I. Don't. Know," Tracy repeated with the same tired and defeated inflection that he now used with everything.

"Then who hurt the people of this town? Who killed my mom?!"

"I don-"

"-THEN WHAT DO YOU KNOW!" Ash's nose nearly touched Tracy's now.

"THAT EVERYONE WAS DYING THAT NIGHT!" Tracy roared back.

"Guys?" Dawn flinched when two pairs of glaring eyes locked onto her, then to the finger she had aimed to the ceiling before her hand retreated to her lap.

A moment of silence passed between the two as it dawned on them that the Professor was still upstairs and trying to rest. Tracy was the first to move away from Ash, slumping into the spot next to Dawn on the couch. Ash took a seat on the one across from them.

"What happened here, Tracy?" Ash's voice was softer this time, but the look in his eyes demanded answers.

Tracy looked at the pipe in his hands for a long time and it took all of Ash's patience not to shout again. He turned the makeshift weapon over in his hands, as if the words he needed to tell them had been etched into the metal and he'd lost his place in the script.

"You know the Professor's warehouse, right? Where he keeps everyone's pokémon."

Ash nodded. Halfway through the action, it dawned on him. He grimaced.

"Dawn filled me in on what happened to you two and Brock. You guys only had to deal with fourteen pokémon back in Sinnoh. The warehouse had over a hundred. Some of which included Voltorb and Electrode."

Dawn failed to stifle a gasp, Ash could only exhale through his nose.

"If the warehouse had been any closer to this house, well then I wouldn't be here to talk to either of you. After that blast, all hell broke loose. We lost a lot of pokémon in that explosion, and some of the ones that survived, well, I kinda wish they hadn't." Tracy noted a pair of alarmed expressions and sighed.

"I know that's terrible to say, but let me explain. Once the Mankey and Primeape recovered from the blast they started attacking anyone in their path. The Beedrill weren't that much better and started grabbing corpses and flying off with them. The Ponyta just ran, which would've been fine if they weren't setting fires everywhere they stepped. The Professor went out to try and calm them down, but something hit him. There was so much going on, I didn't- he was standing one second and the next he… I managed to drag him back in here and spent the rest of the day trying to keep him alive."

Dawn's hand moved over to rest on Tracy's trembling arm. It didn't stop, but the shaking did lessen.

"I went into town the next day, to see if I could get some supplies, which is when Mimey found me. That's also when the Fearow arrived." Tracy practically spat the word out, the grip on his pipe tightening.

"We've been fighting them every day, well, except today." The artist threw a furtive glance to the window.

"Maybe they've given up?" Dawn's voice was hopeful.

The artist only shook his head. "Not this group."

"What makes you say that?" Ash leaned forward, literally on the edge of his seat.

"This flock is being ordered to attack us. Every time they do there's one that usually hangs near the back. He's older than the others and I'm guessing he's their leader. Anytime the battle goes south he's the first one to retreat. The others follow him, despite how merciless he is with them."

"Merciless?" Dawn prompted.

"Ash's pokémon have been pretty effective at killing the Fearow, so much so that when things start taking a turn for the worst for them, some of them try to flee before he gives the call. Those that do are slain by him instantly, the same goes for any who try and avoid fighting by keeping their distance for too long."

"That's terrible," the coordinator whispered.

"They either die to us or die to him, which is why I don't think their leader has given up so easily. He might not have attacked today but he may be preparing for something. I sent some pokémon to tail them and come back once they know what he's planning."

"What I don't get is why attack the Poet-er-Professor's house?" Dawn quickly recovered.

"I've had a lot of time to think about it and nothing really adds up. He's not a pokémon from the Professor's warehouse and I can't imagine Professor Oak doing anything to warrant this kind of response."

"It's because of me." Ash's hands had bridged together and rested against his forehead. Ash had grown deathly pale, his brow damp with sweat. He was mumbling now with Dawn swearing she heard him say something about throwing a stupid rock.

"Ash, I'm not sure I follow," Tracy confessed and looked around the room for any container in case Ash was going to lose his lunch.

"That old Fearow, he's attacking this place because of me. Because of something I did a few years back. It's my fault."

"What exactly did you do to this Fearow?" Tracy couldn't help but wonder if Ash had tortured this pokémon in the past. He quickly pushed the thought away, it wasn't in Ash's character.

Ash quickly recounted the tale of his first encounter with this pokémon who had been a Spearow at the time. Only after he finished his telling of his second run in with the Fearow did Dawn and Tracy start to comment.

"Ash, you had no idea that this Fearow would've taken this so far. You can't beat yourself up about this," Tracy began.

Dawn nodded. "What you did is no different than what any trainer trying to catch a pokémon would've done."

"But people died because of this," Ash countered.

"Ash, people died in this town because of whatever is happening to the pokémon. Based on what Dawn told me was happening to Sinnoh, this might be happening all over the world. The only real casualties the Fearow have taken have been… your pokémon."

Ash's demeanor changed the moment Tracy ended his statement. The boy's focus sharpened as he grabbed fistfuls of his jeans.

Tracy was about to start listing names when Venonat bounded into their midst, beckoned them to follow and bounded away. Without a word Tracy left the room, Dawn and Ash not too far behind. Venonat awaited them just outside Oak's front door, flanked by two figures. It took a second for Ash to realize that Tracy's Marill had evolved, but he recognized the pokémon next to her immediately.

Sceptile blinked repeatedly, not trusting his eyes when he saw Ash standing at the doorway. The longer he stared, the lower his jaw dropped until his signature twig fell past his lips. The starter had already lunged forward and wrapped the boy in a crushing embrace before the twig ever hit the ground.

The day-to-day casualties had forced Sceptile to accept the grim reality that any battle he entered might be his last. As strong and fast as he was, one slip-up was all it would take to end his life. It had been months since he had seen Ash before his trip to another region. A part of him had made peace with the idea that he would die and never see his trainer again.

'W-woah, hey!" Ash yelled the moment his feet left the floor and the forest pokémon shook him back and forth. "I missed you too," Ash whispered, returning the hug the moment Sceptile set him down. They stayed there for some time, reveling in the fact that the other was alive. Dawn, and even Tracy, found themselves smiling at the scene. But the sentiment didn't last long.

Every tug Azumarill gave the hem of Tracy's shirt undid a little more of his smile. He sighed and practically wilted in the midst of turning towards his starter.

"What did you find?"

The aqua rabbit slowly folded both of her ears.

"S-scenario two?" Tracy knew what she meant. They'd come up with what that signal would mean before he sent her off, but he didn't want to believe it. Another solemn nod sealed the deal and Tracy stumbled back, covering his face with his free hand to slowly drag it down.

"Dammit. Dammit!" Tracy growls grew louder when he looked to the second floor.

"Uh, Tracy? What's scenario two?" Dawn's brow creased while Ash left the grass starter's embrace.

"The Fearow are gathering forces for a large-scale assault. We've managed to deal with a dozen fearow at once but if their leader's getting other flocks to join in, then I don't know how we'll…" Tracy didn't bother to finish, marching past them into Oak's home. The others eventually followed and found him hunched over a device that looked like if someone had stretched a pokéball into a thermos.

Tracy set down his weapon and pried the device open along the black seam on the side. Not a word was uttered when he laid his arm down and closed the other half over it like a pokéball-themed cast. The device snapped close, its crimson surface glowing and humming for a few seconds then went silent.

"Dexter, map of Pallet Town," Tracy spoke evenly, watching a section of the device glow and emit a white light. A globe of the earth materialized within the beam, expanding one of the regions until Ash could tell it was Kanto. Within seconds it enlarged until they were all staring at a bird's eye view of the town. Tracy started rotating the map with his free hand, rotating and zooming in or out as needed.

"Uh, Tracy? What is this?" Dawn couldn't help but notice the reverence in Ash's voice, like he was looking at a magical artifact and not a piece of tech.

"Devon Corp, Silph Co, Lysandre Labs and several different organizations decided to work on a project together, something that encompassed elements of all their previous products. This device, called a pokéglov, acts as a pokéball, a pokédex, and a pokénav just to name a few things. We received a dozen of them to give to starting trainers so they could act as beta testers. The Professor was thinking of giving one to you if you came back from your trip early."

A series of bars representing stats for a Fearow appeared on a separate hologram panel.

"Then, what are you looking for?" Dawn asked.

"Even with Mimey's help this place is hardly defensible. He can only set up so many barriers in a day. Even if no one hits them they'll fade with enough time. I was hoping Frank and Sarah would be back by now to tell us how the airport fared. I gave Sarah a pokéglov, but without satellites the radios on these things only have a range of a few miles."

"It's only been a few hours since they left," Dawn reminded him, "they could be on their way back this very minute."

"Let's hope they get here soon. The last thing I wanted was to bring you into this fight. As soon as they're back we can try and get out of here before their forces arrive."

"We're running?" Ash looked as though someone had just told him they needed to eat Pikachu to fight the Fearow.

"Wha-yes, of course we're leaving! Ash, even with your pokémon here we were barely able to fend off their attacks. Even with their numbers dwindling, even with their leader killing off the cowards, we didn't come out of those fights without losses. You have one Tauros left, and we just lost your Heracross and Swellow in the last fight."

Every name cut deep enough to scratch bone, but Tracy saw the fire in his eyes and knew he had made a mistake. He hadn't doused the fire, he'd only poured gasoline.

"You didn't have me back then," Ash said defiantly. "With Pikachu and the rest of my team we can beat those Fearow once and for all. We'll make them pay for everyone we lost."

Tracy deactivated the map on his pokeglov and let his arm flop to his side. He couldn't blame Ash for his attitude towards this, it's just the kind of person he was, but he hadn't been here for the first few days. He hadn't seen what Tracy had seen.

"Ash, I know Pikachu is powerful, but these are very different circumstances. Those Tentacruel and Tentacool were in the ocean, in a medium where they couldn't easily leave and one that conducts electricity. You don't have that luxury with the fearow in the sky. They're fast and they're going to be everywhere at once. If you try and get Pikachu to catch them all in one attack we'll get caught in the blast and you'll risk killing us all too!"

Ash gave a sullen nod at first until his eyes brightened and his lips started to curve into a grin. In the months that Tracy and Dawn had spent with Ash they had seen him smile countless times, but none of them carried the malice his held now.

Will that be me if mom is really gone? Dawn thought to the boy she had traveled with only a few days ago, then to the boy on the railing of the Prism Scale, teeth bared and barely restrained fury. She'd witnessed the transformation, understood the reasons behind it, but the boy smiling at her now was a stranger.

"You're forgetting we've got another group of pokémon that can help us fight the Fearow," Ash countered with a confident smile.

"What're you… your Pidgeot? The one you released after your last fight with the Fearow?"

"Yeah," Ash nodded fervently, "I let him stay and defend the Pidgey and Pidgeotto. I can head out and get them to come help us fight. With his help we should be able to win this."

Tracy's hand lifted to his chin, gaze darting back and forth across the floor. I wouldn't have to move the Professor and risk infection…

"That… that could work. We might just stand a chance of winning if they join." Dawn could hear the hope creep back into the artist's voice. "Ash, do you even know where they are?"

"I… have an idea," Ash sheepishly admitted. The scowl on Tracy's lips deepening when he glanced to the window.

"It's getting dark so I recommend that anyone you bring along can see at night. I also ask that you try and keep your group small. There's no telling when the Fearow are going to strike so I need to prep your pokémon on my plans if we're going to have any chance of making it out of this. Which reminds me…" Tracy turned and faced the blunette.

Dawn felt as though Tracy were weighing her with his eyes. Whatever internal debate raged on inside was shown only through the slight shift in his gaze.

"Dawn, this isn't your home, this isn't really your fight. Having your pokémon here would be helpful, but I can't promise that they won't get hurt or killed if they join what's about to go down. There's an abandoned greenery, the Xanadu nursery, that my Scizor checked out a few days ago. The owner isn't… well the place is empty now and you could wait it out until Frank and Sarah find you."

Dawn's mouth moved to speak but found the words caught in her throat. She looked to Ash expecting a look of betrayal but found no condemnation in his eyes.

"He's right, Dawn. This isn't your fight. I didn't really help Twinleaf, so you have no reason to fight for Pallet. Your mom asked me to keep you safe and if staying at the Xanadu Nursery will do that, then I'm all for it. You can take Buizel with you. I know you traded him to me but I don't want you to lose any more than you already have."

What about you? Dawn wanted to scream, but bit her lip instead. She was being given a choice. An out. She could be safe and abandon her friends, or she could stay to fight and risk losing everything.

Didn't I promise myself I'd stay alive to find mom again? How much am I willing to sacrifice to make that happen? My pokémon? My friends? Those people on the cruise? What happened to them was terrible, but I made it out alive so I let it go. We all did. Does that make us bad people? Am I a bad person?

"I don't want to rush you but I need to know your answer. If you leave now you can make it to the nursery before the Fearow could arrive," Tracy opened one of the drawers and pulled out another Pokéglov.

If I leave and Ash and he dies… can I live with that? Just imagining the feeling of loss and loneliness was enough to make her vision swim.

What if they make it out and resent me for not staying? They'll say they won't but when it's all over, if they lose someone in this fight, like the poetry guy? I could leave some of my pokémon here? They could help fight and… who would I leave behind?

Dawn felt like she was back on the cruise ship, working out who she was willing to sacrifice. Whose death would be the least painful to her?

They said this wasn't my fight, that this wasn't my town. But Twinleaf was, and all I did was stand and watch while my mom was taken away. Now these Fearow are going to try and take Ash and his home away too.

Tracy and Ash noticed the coordinator dig in her heels and face them once more.

"I'm staying with you guys. Your chances are better if you have my help." Ash nodded approvingly while Tracy tried to hide his sigh of relief.

"So that's settled then. Ash, go and grab some of your pokémon to help find Pidgeot."

Ash nodded and made his way outside.

***

Heads turned the moment Ash stepped onto the grounds behind Oak's home. He wouldn't have seen his pokémon looking back at him without Chimchar's flame, though they stood mere feet away. A sudden stillness pervaded the air, one that stopped all motion, all sound, and possibly even time. Professor Oak's ranch looked nothing like he remembered, so much so that Ash felt as though he'd stepped into another world.

Grass that once dominated the fields now existed in small and scattered tufts. Where once stood a wooden fence were now the remnants of individual posts, splintered and bent like a shattered smile. Entire sections of earth had been gouged out of the ground where they weren't blackened by flames. Several trees around the forest's edge had toppled over, some sliced, others brought low as though hit with a train.

Ash wasn't sure how long this frozen moment lasted but felt the stillness shatter when Pikachu bounded towards him. His other pokémon followed suit, a chorus of joyous cries filling the air.

Pikachu slammed into Ash's embrace with enough force to knock him onto his back if not for Bulbasaur's vines catching and pulling him back onto his feet. A wall of purple slime pushed past the grass starter, eclipsing his view of the others.

"Aghh! Wait, Muk I-agghh."

Ash's pleas fell on deaf ears, or whatever the sludge pokémon used to hear things. Muk gurgled with glee, spinning in place with Ash half submerged in his body. Surprisingly, the foul smell Ash had come to associate with the sentient sludge was absent. In a surprising feat of self-control, Muk gently planted Ash onto his feet after only a few spins to let others have a turn.

Ash's time on the ground was short lived. Pikachu, wanting no part of what was about to come next, hopped off Ash's shoulder and darted away. Snorlax lifted the boy effortlessly off the ground and pulled him into another crushing hug. A few seconds of cuddling had Ash frantically patting Snorlax's flab, though if he noticed his trainer's desperate need for air he did not show it.

"Bay bay bay!" the Leaf Pokémon admonished. Two vines immediately wrapped around Ash and yanked him out of the Sleeping Pokémon's grasp.

Bayleaf's fierce visage morphed into one of bliss the moment Ash was at her side. The trainer suppressed a laugh upon seeing his second grass starter practically swoon when he hugged her neck. The boy from Pallet turned to find his Kingler up behind him, happily bubbling and bobbing to the rhythm of Totodile's rapturous dance. Seeing an opening, Noctowl swooped down and perched herself onto Ash's other shoulder. Torkoal, overwhelmed by all the emotion, unleashed a torrent of tears from his eyes, the puddles closest to a beaming Glalie immediately freezing over.

Chimchar, Buizel, and Turtwig kept their distance, content to let their precursors have their moment.

Mimey watched from his spot by the wall of Oak's house, leaning against the newest layer of barriers that covered everything except the doorways. For the first time in days he felt his lips curl into a smile, growing wider and wider with every reunion. Ash's team eventually formed a group hug that enveloped around Delia's son.

Ash had closed his eyes, his smiling cheeks wet with tears. He promised himself he wouldn't cry anymore, but this time was different. It could be the exception. He wasn't the sniveling mess he was last night, rage didn't need to come to save him from feeling weak. His world was now one of warmth and closeness. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in it, to prolong the feeling for as long as possible.

I'm not alone. I still have my pok… my family. I haven't lost everything yet.

One by one, he felt his pokémon leave the collective embrace and wait on his next move.

"It's great to see you guys again. I've missed all of you so much. I hate that I gotta do this now but I need to go find an old friend somewhere near here. There's big group of Fearow coming to attack us, bigger than anything you guys have faced, and we need all the help we can get. I wish I could take all of you, but a lot of you gotta stay behind to help Tracy prepare while I'm out. I'll try and make it back as soon as I can."

Each of his pokémon nodded with his Tauros stepping forth and digging his hooves through the dirt.

"You wanna come, Tauros?"

The wild bull pokémon nodded and gave a snort, shuffling to show off his side. Pikachu got the message and darted over, plopping himself onto his back.

"Yeah, that might be for the best. We can cover more ground that way," Ash replied, wondering if Tracy had a saddle lying somewhere. Noctowl was next to volunteer, fluttering over and landing on one of Tauros' horns.

"You're coming too?"

Noctowl nodded, her eyes glowing bright crimson and illuminating anything in her line of sight. Ash smiled. Foresight was going to come in handy once it got dark.

"I think I can take one more without making Tracy mad." Ash's gaze jumped from one teammate to the next until Mimey's hand touched Ash's shoulder.

"Mimey? Doesn't Tracy need you here?" Ash had seen the strength of Mimey's barriers first hand, and if Dawn, Tracy, and the Professor were going to make it out of the upcoming battle, Mimey's skills would be invaluable. The barrier pokémon shook his head and waved his hand towards the house.

A wall of translucent panels, towering over the windmill built into Oak's lab, shimmered into being. One panel shifted out, then slid back into place with the others mirroring the action until the whole wall looked like it was rippling outwards. Within seconds the panels locked back into place until a seamless cube surrounding the building.

"Well, okay then. I'll let Tracy know and then we can head out."

***

"How many have answered my summons?"

Ukeke shook his head. Slumber had nearly taken him in the cool blackness of night. Dark clouds dominated the skies, taking with them the meager light of the stars and even the moon. So dark was night that his own beak was beyond his sight, but could feel Ivec's presence further down the branch.

Ukeke found some small comfort in the veil of darkness around him, allowing him roll his eyes without fear of Ivec's rebuke. Even if it were bright enough for Ivec to see it, he would still be one of the rare few in the flock with not only the skill but the history to avoid Ivec's wrath.

"We are a hundred and twenty strong. Though the night grows late and they are tired from their trip here."

"Excellent. Let them rest for now. Tonight, we fly and put an end to this once and for all." A slight breeze tickled Ukeke's feathers, as he figured that Ivec had spread his wings dramatically.

"Wait! Tonight?" he squawked. "Have you gone completely-" Ukeke quickly bit his tongue, for even with the shadows between them he could feel Ivec's piercing glare.

"Take heed of your next words, Ukeke. Even my patience has limits and our history only gives you so much lenience."

"You mean to have this army fly blind with their strength spent!" His lieutenant hissed.

"We will strike at dawn." Ivec continued undeterred. "With the sun at our backs we will be able to see them, but should they look upon us they will be blinded," he cackled. "My previous attacks have never come so early, they will not be expecting it and whatever meager rest they've gotten will be interrupted. The odds are in my favor."

Ukeke waited for some time, long after Ivec left his branch, and longer still, even when he was sure their apparent leader was out of earshot, before releasing a sigh.

"But are they in our favor?"

***

Ash had been riding for hours.

Every bend in the path, every shadowy tree looked the same at night, further cementing the feeling that he was traversing an endless road. Several times he thought of turning back, cutting his losses, and helping Tracy prepare for the fight, but Tracy had yet to call him on the spare pokéglov he'd lent him.

Ash didn't think he was far enough to be out of range and his inexperience in using the holomap on the device made it hard for him to check. Even if he knew how to work the device, he wasn't sure he could get his aching fingers to do it.

According to Tracy, Professor Oak had a cousin on an island region called Alola, where riding pokémon to get from place to place was common. Sampson Oak had sent him a device called a Poké Pager that came with the saddle for Tauros. The saddle itself had a handlebar and while riding Tauros wasn't too rough, the speed with which his mount moved demanded he grip the handle as tightly as he could.

Hours of this had made his hands ache, his unaccustomed arms and legs screaming in protest whenever he tried to move them.

Cones of crimson light flitted back and forth along the forest from above, making it easy to trace her focus. Pikachu had taken to resting atop Tauros' head, letting out a small but steady shower of sparks from his cheeks to light their way.

Could Pidgeot have moved away? Maybe some kind of migration thing? I know I get lost in the woods a lot but I don't remember the nest being this far. Wait…could the Fearow have… is that why they didn't attack us today? No, no there would've been a sign, right? Feathers or bodies? Pikachu would've smelled the blood or something. Pidgeot would've put up a fight, he beat that Fearow so easily before, he wouldn't let them push him and his flock around.

"Pi! Pikapi" his starter cried over the thundering hoofbeats. Tauros got the message and slowed to a stop. Ash flexed his fingers, sucking in a breath as he tried to step off the saddle. As if activated by his pain a stream of light arced from his pokéglov to the ground beside him, manifesting into Mimey with his hand already reaching for him. Ash took the hand, grateful for the help getting down. Walking was presenting its own challenges but with Mimey shouldering most of his weight he managed to amble towards the clearing a few meters ahead.

Pikachu took point. Being the only light source for miles, he immediately felt the press of a hundred stares from all around him. Ash heard his starter call out to the forest, then heard the leaves from the surrounding trees rustle in response, then silence. After only a few heartbeats, a large figure dove into the clearing, whipping up the wind before landing on the grass.

"Pidgeot." Ash beamed at the second pokémon he had ever caught, looking stronger and larger than before. The smile weakened when he realized Pidgeot did not mirror his joy. Pidgeot's eyes were filled with nothing but contempt, the plumage on his body on end. He shifted his gaze to Pikachu and the heat diminished as he uttered his name softly to the electric mouse. Mimey's hand, now glowing, lifted from Ash's shoulder and held the back of his head.

"This is to help you understand what they are saying," Mimey's voice reverberated within Ash's skull and in its absence another voice began to emerge from Pidgeot's squawks. Ash had never had a psychic pokémon on his team and besides Misty's Psyduck, neither had any of his traveling companions. He imagined this was something trainers with psychic pokémon, like Anabel, must've experienced.

"-as been some time, old friend. I'm happy to see that you are well, but why is he here?" The scorn in Pidgeot's voice was unmistakable.

"We need your help, Pidgeot." Pikachu could feel his old friend's hatred, but continued undaunted. "The Fearow you defeated a few years ago is getting ready to attack us with a massive flock," Pidgeot closed his eyes, tilted his head back until he faced the dark skies above, each breath released evenly.

"Ivec was right."

Pikachu was about to ask what he was talking about when the bird looked upon them again. This time with utter revulsion.

"Leave now, all of you. You will find no help here." Pidgeot started to turn away, wings lifting to take flight when Ash's voice pierced the night.

"Wait, Pidgeot. My friends, our friends, are going to be fighting for their lives soon. You can't just aban-"

"Three. YEARS!" Pidgeot roared. The force rippled out through the clearing, blowing back the grass and Pikachu's fur. Leaves shaken loose from their branches fluttered down slowly like snow and sprinkled over the clearing. Ash's ears were ringing and part of him wondered what would've happened to him if Pidgeot hadn't been facing away.

"My supposed friends have not come to see me for three years."

"Pidgeot I…I'm sorry I-" Ash scrambled to explain, but any excuse he could offer lacked any foundation.

"Keep your apologies, human. I have no need for them. I have my flock and my family. Since my victory against Ivec, he and his flock haven't bothered us once. His business is with you, and I find little reason to risk a war with him and his ilk."

Every potential argument dissolved on Ash's lips. Any counter he could use to defend himself risked turning into another blade to join the ones that cut him now. The rage he looked to whenever sorrow brought him low did not appear. Maybe it was guilt that kept it at bay, or that he couldn't bring himself to be angry for his negligence but himself.

"Pidgeot, please don't do this," Ash shrugged out of Mimey's hold and stumbled ahead, dropping to his knees. "I'm begging you. Please help us. I'm about to lose everything I care about. My mom is… gone," Ash forced out the words through gritted teeth, clawing at the dirt and grass with his fingernails. "Professor Oak won't be with us for much longer. My home, Pallet is gone and now my friends..."

Pikachu's ears dipped at the sight. He had thought that Ash's cries the night had touched bottom. Now he knew that wasn't true. Seeing his former trainer, his best friend, on his knees, sobbing and desperately pleading for help tore him apart more than a thousand of those nights.

The mouse looked upon Pidgeot's face and felt his body grow warm with rage. In the face of all this pain and sadness, Pidgeot's expression remained deadpan. The flow of sparks from his cheeks intensified, illuminating even more of the clearing, a fact that drew Pidgeot's attention.

"Do you intend to attack me, Pikachu?" he offered calmly. "Do you hate me for refusing to send my family out to fight one of his battles? To spill blood when not a drop will be shed from him?"

Pikachu's sparks started to dim. He could vaporize the entire clearing, kill the entire flock instantly and without breaking a sweat, but at that moment he couldn't meet Pidgeot's eyes. Mimey kneeled down beside Ash, placing a glowing hand on his head but keeping his hateful glare on the bird.

"We were your family too," Pikachu offered feebly and was surprised when the Pidgeot nodded.

"Yes, you were," he replied, the first hint of sadness creeping into his voice. "I thought of you all as such for the longest time. The first year I trained and made sure to protect this flock as he asked me to. I helped them grow, taught others to become as strong as me so that I could leave this flock protected for when you came back to me. You were going to get a pokéball, right? Then come back?"

Pidgeot turned to his former trainer, hatred abandoned and replaced with anguish. "I dreamed of the day you'd take me with you on your adventures. Seasons passed, and I feared the worst had befallen you on your travels, that you had perished somehow. I had my flock scout the area for you, every day." The bird gave a hollow chuckle. "I told them it was training for the Fearow."

"At the end of the first year, my scouts noticed a new pokemon, a "heracross", among those I had called friends. I confronted him and asked if he knew you and it was then that I learned you were safe. The news brought me joy.

"After the second year passed I wondered if you were ever going to come back for me, if you missed me or thought about me as much as I thought about you. I stopped sending scouts and resigned myself to wait until you sought me of your own volition. But it was fruitless. I finally gave up waiting.

"I see now that you didn't need to miss me. You just had me replaced!"

Noctowl flinched as Pidgeot zeroed in on her.

"Tell me, stranger," Pidgeot laughed bitterly. "Did Ash ever talk of me in his travels?" Noctowl opened her beak as if to respond but clicked them close and looked away. "Oh? Then tell me, how many winters have you been with him? What will you do when he grows bored with you too? What does one do when they meet their replacement?" Pidgeot's wings rose again. The murderous intent in the air was thick enough to stop a knife.

Pikachu felt his aura reflexively build up within his tail, his heart pounding for what seemed like the start of a battle. He looked to Mimey, the Barrier pokemon's free hand already aimed at Pidgeot and glancing at him as if awaiting a signal.

Is this really happening? Am I about to kill one friend to save another? The trees around them shuffled once more. Perched upon each branch were a dozen Pidgey and Pidgeotto awaiting their leader's command. Pidgeot's attention shifted back and forth between Mimey and Pikachu until another voice spoke up.

"Pidgeot, you're right. About everything. What I did to you was wrong and horrible and...and you have every right to hate me. I won't ask you to forgive me. I don't deserve it, but my friends haven't done anything to you and they shouldn't have to die because of my mistake. You are the one hope I have of getting all of them out of this alive and if you help me now I promise you, I-I'll do anything you want. You'll never see me again. Anything you want."

A chilling silence fell over the clearing, loud enough that Pikachu could hear the tears slide down Ash's face. Pidgeot closed his eyes.

"Okay. I will help you," he began.

Ash managed a half-laugh, half-hiccup and almost collapsed from the relief. His face was slick with a mixture of tears and sweat.

"I will help you, but first..." his eyes narrowed, voice dripping venom. "I need to pick up a pokéball. I'll be back someday." With that, Pidgeot flapped his wings and disappeared from the clearing.


	20. Silent Hall

August 19

***

Another empty cabinet. Another reflexive glance to the window behind her.

Clouds. Just clouds.

It wasn't yet dark enough for the swarm of black wings, but the golden horizon told her they were on their way. She hated the sunset; she hated them. They'd turned something beautiful into a nightmarish warning light. When could she bask in the quiet hum of twilight again? When would the clock stop ticking towards danger? When do I get to breathe?

"Misty, anything?" Violet appeared at the door. Her voice cracked, wet with desperation. Starmie's body peeked out from behind her.

Misty didn't have the heart to tell her. Their eyes met for only a second before they both glanced at the window. Still nothing. Still just regular clouds, stained red by a sun dangling over the skyline as if to taunt them. How appropriate, Misty mused bitterly then remembered her sister had asked her something.

"Uh, no. Nothing. You?"

"Same," she grumbled, "Whoever was here, like, before us? They weren't generous like us in Ceru-" Violet's words were cut short when a four-toned bell rang through the halls. The sisters froze, unsure of what the noise signified. A robotic voice spoke through the intercoms.

"Today's special class… Fog Battle Techniques… will now commence."

Misty felt her heart rate spike as the world outside the building started to darken. The evening tapestry of purples and golds were quickly swallowed up by seas of gray. More and more fog filled the air, until even their car, parked a few feet from the school's entrance, disappeared.

"What kind of crazy school is this, Misty?"

"I told you, it's one of those snobby private schools only millionaires' kids can get into," Misty replied shakily.

"But, like, a school that controls the weather?!" Misty could only shrug at Violet's questions.

"We need to find Lily and Daisy. Where are they?"

"Don't know, but we set up a meeting point if things got bad, yeah?"

"Right. Let's head there then. Hopefully they had the same idea." Misty motioned for Marill to take the lead out the door. "This isn't turning out like I hoped," the redhead grumbled. She felt her sister's fingers slip through her own.

"You couldn't have known." Violet managed a weak smile, one that Misty found herself mirroring back, until a new thought resurfaced.

"Violet, you don't think all of Kanto's like this?"

The bluenette said nothing, doing her best to avoid stepping on remains of students who hadn't escaped the denizens of the night. There were never any bodies, or blood, or even bones. They were always thorough when they fed. What they did leave behind was something Daisy had taken to calling "clothing confetti".

Misty shook the thought away and opened the door to the main hall to find Lily sitting beside her Corsola as Daisy repeatedly ran her fingers through her golden tresses. The action was abandoned halfway the moment Misty's Politoad saw them and closed the distance.

"Misty, what is with this school?" Lily whined.

"Apparently the nerdy rich kids here have, like, a weather control machine," Violet explained in a huff.

"Seriously? Well, could we, like, use that against the Zubat? You know, make it rain or hail?" Lily suggested.

"That might be possible, but we'd need to find the machine first and figure out how to create the weather we need," Lily said.

"That's time we might not have," Misty said, "Before it got all foggy the sun was close to setting. I don't think we should risk it now. Let's play it safe and try doing it in the morning." Each sister nodded and followed Misty as she made her way past the splintered remains of the school's front door.

Marill led them through the mist, following the faint smell of chlorine. Cracks and crunches served as the soundtrack to their trek across the courtyard. Orange mounds of shattered shingles bordered the base of the neoclassical building and back when she could see, Misty had noted that every window on all three floors had been blown out. The sisters moved slowly in single file, holding each other's hands in a chain.

It took them a few minutes, but they eventually stood at the edge of the school's pool. Misty recognized it from when Ash and his Pikachu had fought against Giselle's Cubone and won.

Lily's hands patted her police outfit until she found the pocket she needed, pulling out several rebreathers and handing them to her sisters.

"Guess it's a good thing we brought these with us."

"We have a bit of time before we need to go under," Misty suggested and slipped off the police helmet. Her sisters did the same, albeit hesitantly.

For a while each of them stared at the pool. The water was clean and clear enough to see all the way to the bottom. No one said anything.

"Is it… is it bad that I don't want to go in there again," Violet's eyes were shimmering. Heads turned, but after a few seconds each sister nodded back in understanding. The water was home for the sisters: the cool tingle, the weightlessness, how it wrapped around them like an embrace. Years of swimming made it second nature for all of them. But that embrace was now strangling, a prison with a glass ceiling. They sank below the surface, forced to stay awake through the night, forced to watch a writhing cloud of zubat waiting for an exhausted limb to float beyond the barrier.

Even when the safety of daylight had come and Misty found sleep, nightmares of dozing off and floating towards a thousand hungry mouths made it a restless effort. For her sisters, who cared so much about their appearance, hours underwater and lack of sleep had taken its toll on their looks.

"It's okay, Violet," Daisy said, "I get it, we all do. We won't have to keep doing this, I promise. If we go into the water, it'll be on our terms."

She pulled her shaking sister into a hug. Misty and Lily joined the embrace. They fell to their knees, holding tighter and tighter, trying to steel themselves.

The sun set within the hour, the Zubat on the horizon. Misty and her sisters entered the water, armed with nothing but their swimwear and the will to survive another night.


	21. Home To Roost

August 22

***

Dawn lifted her hand to her mouth and yawned. The clock on her pokéglov read 2:03 AM, but the prebattle jitters meant sleep eluded her. Tracy managed to scrounge up enough beans and with the help of his Azumarill and Ash's Torkoal, he'd managed to get her some coffee in a mug that looked like it was being held together with prayers. While she was fond of the smell, without any milk or sugar, she wasn't particularly keen on its bitterness. She took only intermittent sips with the hope of giving the rest to Tracy when he came back down.

The artist had disappeared upstairs to check on Professor Oak, and it wasn't long before she heard the muffled wails through the floorboards and the sounds of things shattering against the walls. Venonat, Azumarill, and Scizor burst through the door and up the stairs to the room above. Dawn winced with every crash and scream, clenching her mug by its broken handle and taking another sip.

It would be just another thing on the list of tragedies that Ash would have to deal with when he came back. Beyond being a voice over the radio, Dawn hadn't really known the Professor well enough to mourn his passing, but the thought of how Ash would take the news left her misty-eyed. Tracy's footfalls from the stairs, slow and heavy, pulled her out of her thoughts. She got up from the couch, but stopped just short of exiting the living room.

What would I even say to him? What good would telling him I'm sorry even do? Would it even matter coming from me? Someone who didn't even know him. Would it be worse if a said nothing? I just want to show that I care. That after everything in Twinleaf, I can sympathize. Maybe if I gave him a hug or…

The image of the metal pipe in his hands flashed to the forefront of her thoughts and stayed her steps. Part of her knew that she shouldn't be afraid of Tracy. Ash would often talk about his old traveling companions on their downtime in Sinnoh. She had heard of him speak of Oak's assistant, of how amazing he was at sketching Pokémon, how cheerful he was.

Dawn could've said the same for Ash or her pokémon, but every night came the nightmares of her own friends. The wild look in Ash's eyes on the cruise, the dried blood spattered onto Piplup's feathers after Oreburgh. The images would repeat again and again until she woke up with a start. She'd chant to herself that her friends would never do that, Ash would never grab her and hit her face in a blind rage. But the fear of what he could do if he lost control was still there. The Tracy Ash had told her about was gone. Maybe that Tracy had died on the 16th.

Maybe he had to.

In that moment Oak's assistant stormed past her and out the back door. His pokémon barely noticed her presence as they followed him out. Dawn sidled out of the building to find Tracy on his knees, screaming for Ash's Bayleaf. His metal pipe was planted deeply into the ground. The leaf pokémon approached cautiously, exchanging glances with Scizor and Azumarill who nodded back and urged her forward.

Tracy sobbed openly now, slamming his fists into the dirt like he was making graves for his tears. Bayleaf drew close enough for him to rest his head against the base of her neck and retreat from him once he took a deep breath. Tracy's body shuddered violently as he got back onto his feet. His breaths were growing faster, almost to the point of hyperventilation. The pipe buried beside him was ripped out of the ground with such ferocity that Dawn flinched away from him.

"We're going to make them pay," Tracy howled to the crowd of pokémon forming around him. "For everyone we've lost this past week. Every drop of blood the Fearow have spilled, we'll pay them back a thousand-fold!" Tracy roar was quickly lost in the chorus of cries from Ash's pokémon.

Dawn's hand protectively hovered over the pokéglov, now holding her team, when Tracy started heading towards her. The look on her face stopped him in his tracks. He kept his distance and looked to the floor.

"I…I'm sorry you had to see that," Tracy's face was flushed, his pupils dilated, hair clinging to his moistened brow. "Bayleaf's leaves release a chemical that energizes you and make you want to fight. It's probably the only reason Ash was able to get out of bed yesterday."

Dawn's gaze narrowed. "You made Ash smell this?"

Tracy's features sharpened at the accusation. "The Professor needed to tell Ash something and I knew he didn't have much time left, so I'm sorry if I couldn't wait for Ash to finish mourning," Tracy hissed back, only to realize who he was talking to and glance away.

"Dammit! Sorry…this stuff is potent when inhaled from its source. If it makes you feel any better I made sure Bayleaf only gave Ash a small dose, just to get him moving."

The bluenette closed her eyes.

"It doesn't, but I understand why you did it."

"I can't afford to be sad about the Professor right now, especially if the Fearow could be here any moment. Did you register your pokémon to the pokéglov?"

Dawn nodded and extended her arm to show off the red and white gauntlet. Tracy's fingers danced over a hologram keyboard over his pokéglov and a small panel of light blinked into existence over her device. The words on its surface asking her if she approved the transfer of her party to Tracy's pokeglov. Dawn hesitated for a moment but eventually pressed the button, summoning an arc of crimson light that jumped from her device to Tracy's.

"Dawn, I know this isn't easy for you. I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure we can all make it out of here alive."

"What do you have planned?"

Tracy tapped his pokéglov and brought up a bird's eye view of Oak's ranch on another panel of light, filled to the edges with markings he'd drawn. With the flick of his hand the screen flipped to face the bluenette. Tracy watched and smiled as her eyes darted back and forth, silently mouthing the notes he had written.

Oak's assistant had not been idle in the days since the Fearow attacked; he had made sure to commit everything the Fearow did to memory. He'd analyzed their movements, their inclination towards certain attacks and maneuvers. Countless sketches filled the walls of his room, some detailing the average distance between each Fearow when they flew while others were dedicated to the shape and structure of their formations when they flocked to them.

"Every time they came here we only fought to defend ourselves, to make them go away. No more. This time we hit them with everything we have. If they're gonna come here, then I plan on making them pay for every inch."

***

Ivec's heart beat frantically against his breast as he flew across the Kantonian countryside. Soaring several meters below him was the first wave of what must've been largest assembly of Fearow he, and probably anyone in the world, had ever witnessed. A flock that flew with purpose and pride, a feeling he'd instilled upon hearing his retelling the tale of how his rise to power began.

Ivec had reminded them of the voice they'd heard in their heads a week ago, how their increase in strength and skill were gifts from an entity of great power who sanctioned their attack on the humans. He had told them of a future when the humans from the nearby settlement would come for them, capturing them in their magical orbs, separating families and forcing them to fight other creatures for their entertainment. Ivec assured them that they weren't fighting for him, but for their families, for those still in eggs, unaware of the world they would be born into. They were fighting to ensure their children would live in a world without the fear of enslavement.

And now, the source of all their fears was a mere kilometer away.

The first light of dawn crept over the land, and as Ivec looked upon his flock, the way the feathers on each wing caught the light, he felt that all was right in the world. It was as if nature itself had blessed his crusade.

Years of training, of loss and pain, had finally culminated into what would be his finest moment. Songs would be sung of his achievement on his day; his tale would be told for countless generations.

"Attacks incoming!" Yelled one of the Fearow near the front. The Alpha Fearow squinted with his one good eye and saw a wall of shimmering orbs heading towards them. As innocent as they looked, many of Ivec's original flock had lost their lives when underestimating the power those bubbles carried. As if to make matters worse, a wintery chill rushed over him, stealing the warmth from his bones and leaving him feeling sluggish.

Bubblebeam and Icy Wind? How did they know we were coming? Why are they even up at this hour? Could they have-No! It matters not! I know this technique and the perfect counter for it.

"Launch the attack back with the wind," Ivec squawked and flapped his wings frantically. The others did as they were told, beating the air and sending gales at the wall of bubbles. Ivec smiled. The attack slowed to a crawl, then slowly drifted back to its source. One of the bubbles brushed against another, setting off a chain of explosions that rippled through the wall leaving only a dark cloud of smoke.

The force was enough to push the flock back a few meters, but aside from some ruffled feathers no one had suffered any damage. Ivec's pride at his own quick thinking disappeared when a massive column of fire shot through the dark cloud and speared through the center of their formation. Those close enough to watch their brethren blacken before their eyes were quick to join them as the heat ignited their feathers.

Dozens flapped their wings to put as much distance between them and the inferno, only for their added gales to make the river of fire burn hotter. Fearow on the outer edges of the formation started to move away, giving room to those trying to escape, only to stop short when white beams of light sliced through the air around their formation, cutting off any escape.

Those trying to escape the flames crashed into those that hesitated to move into the path of the beams. Ivec watched in horror as three new orange beams of energy were added to the confusion.

For a moment, he thought the attacks had missed, each Hyper Beam a few meters off from hitting anyone at the edge of the formation.

Then the beams converged towards the center.

Any structure their formation once held was in shambles. The Hyper Beams swept through the chaos, cleaving through any semblance of order remaining. Pained and frenzied squawks saturated the skies. Feathers shaken loose fell alongside blackened corpses of fallen allies.

"To me!" Ivec crowed, swooping down to lead the survivors out of the strike zone. Unsurprisingly, Ukeke was the first to reach him.

"Ivec, we need to retreat, we've just lost a third of our forces!"

"No, we can still win this. They have never displayed this much power in our previous fights. Seeing the size of our forces they must've unleashed everything they had to take us out. They have to be depleted by now, we can still finish this with the ones that remain."

"How many of our forces need to die before you are sated?" Ukeke roared.

"Think of the hatchlings, Ukeke," Ivec snidely replied.

"We both know you're not doing this for them."

"I need only kill the rodent and the human and we can leave. But if we're being honest, after what has just transpired, do you really think the rest of the flock is still doing this for noble pursuits anymore?"

Ukeke was about to retort when he noticed a maze of bubbles floating over the forest. Unlike the previous attack the bubbles were spread further apart; bursting one wouldn't set off the others. Several Fearow who tried to fly over the floating minefield were quickly cut down by shards of ice, burning yellow stars, and massive rays of orange energy. Other Fearow took their chances dipping into the forest, only to crash when the woods were too narrow to navigate through.

"Ivec, going through the bubbles is a trap. They're forcing us through there. We'll take some losses but if we go around we can-"

"They're taunting me," he scoffed, unable to hear his lieutenant. "If we are swift and nimble we can outspeed whatever paltry snare they have in store for us." Ivec spun away, weaving through the gaps between each bubble with ease. Ukeke groaned but mirrored the Alpha's actions, chancing a glance to the rest of the flock behind them.

Many of them were able to maneuver through the bubblefield without incident; the few that couldn't only suffered a few singed feathers. But there was something else that he noticed, and as much as it pained him to admit, Ivec was right about the flock. He could see the hatred in their eyes, fury at the loss of loved ones in that surprise attack. Gone were the notions of fighting for a better future, now they fought for those who had been taken from them.

The further in they traveled, the more numerous the bubbles became, a problem their opponents were quick to rectify with golden glowing seeds that whistled past Ukeke's head. He didn't bother to dodge them, those that connected didn't even leave a bruise.

He soon learned he was never the intended target.

Popping sounds filled his ears. It was the only warning he and those in the bubblefield had before everything detonated.

***

Dawn should've felt comforted by the fact that all of Tracy's plans, based on his latest reactions, had gone off without a hitch. She should've been relieved that the fearow were taking heavy losses before they even arrived at the ranch. The girl from Twinleaf tried to find some solace that she was in a house protected by panels that could withstand direct tank fire. Nonetheless, the sight of Tracy's wicked grin, as he peered through his binoculars, kept sending shivers down her spine.

It was daylight and Ash had yet to come back with the Pidgeot flock he had promised. Tracy had accounted for that, in fact, it felt as though he had accounted for nearly everything. Dawn glanced through the window to see the soon-to-be battlefield. At first glance Tracy's Scizor and Ash's Glalie appeared to be all that stood between them and the Fearow, but they were anything but alone.

A few meters behind them was a trench, one foot wide and five feet deep, spanning the width of the field. Bunneary was down there with Chimchar, Venonat, and Torkoal, poised to launch their attacks at any fearow flying over them. Piplup was waiting in the river to the right of them with Buizel, Totodile, and Azumarill. Hidden in the patch of forest that hugged the length of the professor's house was Bayleaf and Turtwig.

"Team Welcome Mat should be here soon," Tracy said, more to himself than to inform Dawn.

As if on cue, Kingler scuttled out of the brush with Corphish and Quilava hanging from the crimson spires that made up his crown. Sceptile ran alongside him, carrying Bulbasaur and Pachirisu in each arm. Donphan and Snorlax brought up the rear.

As instructed, Team Welcome Mat separated to join their secondary teams as soon as they reached the trench. Kingler and Corphish ran straight for the river, Quilava, and Pachirisu hopped into the trench, leaving Ash's grass starters to join the others in the forest. Donphan and Snorlax circled around the house to join Muk who guarded the front door and stairs.

"Looks like everyone's in position," Tracy set his binoculars down and started heading to the stairs.

"You're not seriously going out there, are you?"

"I can't leave Scizor out there by himself. As sturdy as he is in his new form, he can only fight for so long before he overheats. I've had his back and he's had mine in the last few days. Same goes for the other pokémon, I can't leave them out there without my guidance in case something throws them off the battle plans I set up. Just stay here and be safe."

As uncomfortable as Dawn was with Tracy, she couldn't help but feel like the room grew colder when he disappeared to the floor below.

***

Tracy slammed the door behind him and turned to find Scizor and Venonat already waiting for him.

"Ven, now?" Tracy prompted. Venonat bobbed up and down, the closest thing he had to a nod.

"Alright then. Ice and Water Teams, you're up!" Tracy shouted and felt the goosebumps travel down his arms the closer Glalie came. Six streams of water shot out of the river, dousing the forested area in a thin layer of water. He noticed something blue flash within the trenches just before a wall of ice dominated his view of the field. The pokémon watcher, teeth chattering, handed his pipe to Scizor to rub some warmth back into his arms. Glalie did as he was told and started freezing the surface of Oak's building in a thin layer of ice.

"It'll b-b-be worth it," he told himself, seeing his breath mist with every word. Tracy closed his eyes. If he focused, he could hear the hum of a hundred wingbeats in the distance, the endless chorus of angry squawks growing louder with each passing second. The next phase of his plan would be up to Venonat. All Tracy had to do was survive.

Scizor tapped Tracy on the shoulder, handing him back his pipe but with a slight modification, courtesy of his claws. Tracy inspected the end of his weapon, now pinched close into a point sharp enough to draw blood. The Pincer Pokémon beckoned Glalie to follow him into the forest the moment he finished sealing Tracy inside a box of blue ice.

***

Ivec flapped his wings to keep himself aloft, watching his flock fly ahead of him to surround the human dwelling now covered in ice.

Do they think this will defend them?

The answer to Ivec's question rose from the trench in the form of a flaming cyclone a few meters tall but angled away from the house. He had seen this attack before, this Fire Spin, and had already briefed the rest of the Flock on its limitations. It was a ground-based technique that was not only slow but inaccurate.

The other Fearow watched in bemusement, but felt it prudent to keep a safe distance from the fire whirl as it slowly lifted off the ground. As it rose higher a pokémon leapt out of the trench, his head and rear alit with flames. Ivec recognized the creature as Quilava, having watched him ascend into his current form from their previous bouts. Seeing an opening a few from the flock dove at the Volcano pokémon, aiming their beaks towards his midsection.

"Overheat," a voice from within the trench yelled, unleashing a geyser or white flames that was drawn in and assimilated into the cyclone above.

"Eruption!" Quilava cried. Fearow in the attack's path spun out of the way. Those too close to the flames felt their feathers ignite. In their last moments, before their eyes dried beyond use, they came to realize the Fire Spin was never meant to hit them.

It was meant to absorb the other attacks.

Ivec's keen sight worked against him, the twister of white and blue fire becoming so bright he had to look away. Even if he had, the area around the attack shimmered violently from all the heat making it impossible to see what lied within. Moisture on the trees turned into steam as the ice around the human structure and trenches quickly melted.

The funnel of flame exploded to ten times its size, those once at a cautious distance felt the ravenous inferno lick the air between them. Those too slow to react were sucked into the blazing twister, becoming dark shadows amidst the flames. Then, to the flock's surprise, the flames dissipated and littered the field with the charred remains of its victims.

Jets of water and a barrage of bubbles were fired from the river, eager to fill in the fire's absence. Not to be outdone, the pokémon taking cover in the forest let loose a mix of razor leaves and bullet seeds.

"It would appear they are pulling out all the stops against me. If that's the case, then so shall I," Ivec chuckled, settling onto a branch. "Ukeke, do not send in the second wave until I give the order and ensure that I am not disturbed for the next ten minutes. I will settle this once and for all."

His lieutenant, knowing what Ivec was preparing, nodded grimly and turned to face the battlefield. Ten minutes might as well have been an eternity, but for once, he believed Ivec's claim and stood ready to block any strike aimed at the Alpha.

***

The Fearow were adapting faster than Tracy had anticipated.

If they weren't evading the attacks completely they were letting them purposely land where they would do the least amount of damage, then using Mirror Move to send the same attack back. Worse, they were aiming the techniques not at their source, but where they would do the most damage.

While Ash's grass starters wouldn't be too bothered by the water moves, the same could not be said for the trees that they were using as cover. Towers of flame occasionally rose from the trenches but after the first round of casualties, the Fearow kept a healthy distance away from that area.

It was early and less than ideal, but they weren't getting anywhere in the current phase of his plan. Tracy ran towards the center of the battlefield, a sign to the others that he was initiating Phase Three of the plan. Whether they were eager or stupid, the Fearow who saw him as an easy target dove at the chance of a quick kill.

Tracy watched one of the Fearow draw close as he slid to a stop. There was no way for him to outrun it, no way he could block the attack on his own strength. With complete faith, he readied his pipe and waited for his opening. The incoming beak stopped short a few centimeters from his brow, held in place by a red metal claw. Taking his chance, Tracy thrust his pipe into the bird's chest and skewered its heart.

Scizor felt a muffled and gurgling cry in his claw, then swung the bird over Tracy's head to block the strike from another fearow coming in from behind. The attacker tried to swerve away but Scizor was faster, slamming one bird into another. He would've moved in for a finishing blow if not for the massive crimson claw crushing both birds in one swing. Kingler smiled to his fellow Pincer Pokémon and moved to cover any openings.

Sceptile darted out of the woods, his Leaf Blade already ignited and glowing menacingly. A Fearow swooped in to intercept, unaware he was fated to be a lesson to his brethren that old type advantages were no longer set in stone. The Forest Pokémon continued his charge towards the oncoming fearow, neither of them willing to change course.

In the last meter between them, Sceptile spit a seed. His opponent twisted, moving just enough to let the seed graze past his beak and miss his eye. The movement made him lose sight of Sceptile for the briefest of moments, but that had been enough for his target to get past him. The bird started to turn his head, preparing to aim his own Bullet Seed at the starter.

Except, his head wouldn't stop turning.

More and more of the battlefield came into view at angles he hadn't thought his neck was capable of. He'd nearly made a complete rotation when he saw his own headless body sprawled across the dirt, then felt the ground against his head. The world was a tumble of colors as he bounced and tumbled. Just as his brain registered what had happened, the darkness took him.

An orange beam bisected the sky and while it failed to hit any of the flock, Snorlax had made himself known. One foolhardy fearow thought to take advantage of Snorlax while he recharged his Hyper Beam. Ivec had warned them of the resilience of this opponent's belly, so he aimed his sights higher and went for the head.

Inches before striking his target's skull, Snorlax turned his head and chomped down on the beak. The sudden stop nearly broke the fearow's neck, but it was Snorlax's follow-up uppercut that finished the job. Other fearow rushed to attack, but veered away and kept their distance upon seeing their comrade reduced to a literal cloud of feathers and blood.

Muk became the thing of nightmares for those who attempted to fight him. His body bubbled and hissed with the fearow he had caught previously; a wing and beak slowly sunk into his body as it broke down. Shooting his own Sludge Bombs back had a negligible effect and so the birds thought themselves safe for as long as they kept their distance from his attacks. That illusion fell away when Muk's eyes glinted and one of the fearow went still, hovering for a few seconds, before plummeting to the ground and into Muk's open arms.

Fearow who ventured too close to the forest faced the onslaught of Bayleaf and Bulbasaur's vines, whipping and coiling around any limb they caught. Other fearow that came to cut the restraints were greeted with a flurry of leaves that sliced through the treetops for their trouble. While the leaves only dealt minor cuts, the real attack, hidden within the barrage, quickly took root.

Nestled beneath the feathers, half-embedded in each fearow's skin, lied Bulbasaur's Leech Seed sapping the bird's lifeforce. Tiny roots burst out from the base of the seed, snaking across its host, coiling around anything in its reach and constricting tightly, growing longer and stronger the more the seed drank.

Scizor was loosely aware of Sceptile next to him, in fact he was hardly aware of Tracy, Kingler, or the rest of Ash's party that joined their phalanx formation. There wasn't time to focus on who was helping him. Every action, every thought was dedicated to taking advantage of an opening or creating one for someone else. He could make out certain moments in the corner of his eye, but tried not to let his mind wander.

The group's movements entered a sort of rhythm, one technique or movement flowing into that of another teammate without the need for words or planning. It was a kind of rhythm born of years simply spent being beside other, a level of synchronization that could not be taught but lived. Even those who were newcomers, whose actions or attacks couldn't tap into this flow, found that the collective synergy more than compensated for the lack of coordination.

Pachirisu hopped onto Snorlax's outstretched paw then watched the battle zoom out beneath him when he was thrown into the air. Wings and beaks converged from every direction, but the Elesquirrel had already charged and released his attack. Tracy fought the temptation to look up when the field around them brightened and the fried bodies of several fearow smashed into the ground around him.

Buneary kicked off a fearow's chest, not enough to damage him, but enough to stun him long enough for Buizel's Sonic Boom to connect. Rivers of flame and ice darted back and forth like deadly spotlights. While Quilava and Glalie weren't catching any Fearow, Azumarill's aquatic shots at the spots around the attacks did. Ribbons of water sliced across the sky. Any unfortunate Fearow caught in their path found itself flying with one less limb. Those who lost a wing were not struck again.

Gravity would do the rest.

***

"Ivec. Now?" Ukeke glanced away from the fight.

The Alpha exhaled slowly, not out of irritation but as part of his mental exercises. His focus was so complete, Ukeke imagined his words had been wasted.

"Are you almost done?" the lieutenant snapped a little more forcefully than he intended. Ivec seemed to take no offence as he kept meditating but parted his beak slightly.

"It is taking longer than I had hoped, but I am halfway there. Now would be a good time to send in the next wave and have them do that maneuver I trained them to do," Ivec's command carried a slight echo, his body thrummed with some unseen force.

Ukeke gave the call and watched the second half of their forces emerge from the forest.

***

Tracy's hopes sank so low they could've drilled to the center of the earth. He had truly believed that he and the pokémon would've made it out of this battle without any losses. Thanks to his tactics and the strength of Ash's team they had whittled down the flock to a handful of fighters, but their leader had shown him his mistake. He'd overextended and played his hand too early. Dozens of Fearow now circled over them, none of Ash's pokémon attacked lest they only graze their target and have it launched back at them.

"Would be nice to have the cavalry come in anytime now, Ash," Tracy growled.

What is taking him so long? Even if Ash didn't find them he would've been back here by now. The Fearow couldn't have known we were going to ask for their help. Or could they? Ash has Pikachu with him, there's no way he would've lost to a flying type. Even then Mimey is with him. Unless the Fearow are keeping him occupied from joining this fight and- No. I don't have time to think about this right now.

Tracy's glare morphed into one of confusion when fearow started to retreat from the battlefield, past the river to the right of Oak's house.

But they have the advantage again, what are they doing?

Tracy watched their avian adversaries align themselves into a wall. He held up his hand to keep the other pokémon from launching any attacks. At this distance, the fearow would have ample time to dodge or worse, use it to fuel a Mirror Move. With their numbers replenished and the strength of Ash's team already half spent, they needed to make every attack count.

Tracy then felt a blast of wind over his face, a pause, and then another. The row of Fearow at the top of the formation gave a single flap of their wings with such strength that it sent them back, behind the wall of their brethren. Those pushed back then dove down and formed the bottom line of the wall, steadily raising up as those at the top row repeated the process. The watcher strained to keep his eyes open against the gales, long enough to see that now two rows of fearow were flapping their wings before he realized what they were doing.

"Everyone, take cover by the house or in the trench," Tracy's voice sounded small compared to the roar of the wind but to the enhanced hearing of the pokémon, the message was clear. He started running and even with the wind at his heels, the former aide found himself outpaced by most of Ash's team, even Snorlax.

His neck felt the sting of sand and soil spraying over him. Leaves and tiny twigs pelted his back until a crimson arm wrapped around his waist, then the world became a blur. Tracy went soaring over the trench and though Scizor had been aiming for the backdoor to the house, the wind had pushed them off target.

A giant paw reached out from the side of the house and hauled them in. Tracy and Scizor were set down along with the rest of the collective party that didn't fit in the trenches. Kingler, Muk, Glalie, Donphan, Sceptile, Bayleaf and Azumarill leaned against the barriers that encircled the house, occasionally glancing past him to look at winds tearing through the field.

A dull groan made Tracy glance up. The windmill spun faster than he had ever seen it go. Planks of wood from the fence were being sucked out of the soil with every gust. The air beyond their cover became a wall of earth, leaves, and water, and it wasn't long before Tracy started to see entire trees tumbling down the field.

Tracy's ears eventually popped as he watched the chaos unfold; the sound of the rushing wind became all-encompassing noise. His only comfort was that Mimey's barriers were still holding against what was essentially a tempest of hurricane proportions. As if to test his faith the top of the windmill spun itself to pieces and was carried into the distance.

This went on for a few minutes until eventually the moments of calm between each blast of wind grew longer and longer. A sea of leaves and snapped branches blanketed the once barren field. Not a single post from the fence remained and the debris had obscured enough of the trench to make Team Rocket proud. Tracy was about to give the order to fan out until a squawk from above told him it was too late.

A "gentle" push from Scizor sent Tracy flying away from the house. He let himself tumble, then took the momentum to roll back onto his feet. Several beaks plunged into the earth where he once stood. Snorlax grabbed one of the fearow by the wings and effortlessly yanked them out of their sockets.

Tracy felt the ground around him darken and glanced up to see another fearow swooping down towards him. It was halfway to him when a thread of water sliced through its brain. Sheer adrenaline let him witness the light dim in its eyes, the strength behind its wings beginning to falter. Tracy sidestepped, barely evading the eighty pounds of feather and meat that crunched onto the floor.

The normally quiet metallic mantis roared, crushing the windpipe of the unfortunate fearow whose gangly neck was in his crimson claw. Scizor's other claw became a scarlet cloud, another fearow's breast rippling beneath a flurry of invisible blows.

Glalie's Ice Beam fired frantically at anyone threatening to interrupt Scizor's work, but with his attention focused elsewhere, he never saw the fearow descend from behind and stab him through the eye with its beak. The Face pokémon howled, forgoing a point-blank Ice Beam to instead gore the fearow with his horn.

Tracy was about to run back into the fray when he noticed the fearow gathered atop Oak's home. They hopped into the gaping hole left by the windmill's shaft and entered the house.


	22. Splitting Feathers

Tracy and their collective party broke their formation and fled the field. Dawn watched the wind pick up, like something otherworldly. Uprooted trees and waves of topsoil soared across the grounds silently beyond the glass.

She backed away from the windows and took cover behind the couch. Mimey's barriers looked like they were still holding strong, even after deflecting the bulk of entire trees. Tracy had told her that after a certain amount of time or damage, they would fade. She hoped they held out until the winds died down.

Then she heard it, something creaking above the house, discordant groans of buckling steel. Her heart pounded against her breast like a caged bird fighting to be free, pounding and yearning, beating faster and faster. Squeals of rending metal pealed through the frantic pounding.

And then, the noise was gone. It was so sudden Dawn wasn't even sure the noise had ended. It took her a few seconds to realize all she could hear was the roar of the wind and the thrumming of her own heart. Another minute would pass before the world beyond the window started to look normal.

Before she could sigh in relief, the walls shook outside the room. An angry squawk filled the hall. Then another crash. The bluenette's heart seized. Another voice joined the angry cries. She tried to silently back away when a beak stabbed through the door, pulling a shriek from her lips.

The fearow knocked down the door and squeezed through, but his target had already darted through the door to the kitchen across the room. Dawn waited in the corner, her knife shook so much it threatened to fly from her grasp.

The fearow barreled through the living room, slowing to crane its neck inside, eyes glinting with obvious glee. Just as she hoped and dreaded, the bird spotted her and approached her casually, reveling in her silent shivers.

"N-now, Swinub!" came Dawn's tremulous cry, tipping the bird to her trap. It felt the icy bite of several daggers along its back. It whirled to look at its attacker with an angry cry. Dawn stood frozen in her corner, her legs refusing to carry out her own plan. The fearow's back was to her, the feathers around each glacial blade already stained with blood.

Of course his back is to me. I'm not a threat to him. I'm not a threat to anyone. All I can do is tremble in this corner.

The fearow lifted its wing for a vicious swing that slammed Swinub into the wall, cratering it on impact. In the same motion, the fearow kicked him across the room, smashing him into the countertop. Swinub crumpled onto the floor among the shards.

I could run while he's focusing on Swinub. I might be able to make it upstairs and- what am I saying? I…

She wanted to tell herself she couldn't leave Swinub behind like that. Even if he had only been with them for a week, she could never bring herself to abandon someone from her team. But the declaration didn't come. Her thoughts were flooded with justifications.

You need to survive if you want to see mom again. He isn't your starter like Piplup, or the first pokémon you caught like Buneary. He hasn't even been part of a contest like Pachirisu has. All he's done is eat twice his weight in food which is gonna make feeding him harder for you in the future if he lives.

The fearow gave her a sidelong glance, and while his beak made smiling impossible, the way his eyes scrunched together, almost squinting at her, relayed his joy at having an audience. Dawn had seen those eyes before. Only a few days ago, she had been on the cruise, staring up at the eyes of the Titantecruel. It felt like something from another lifetime.

Nothing's changed since then. I'm still that frightened girl.

Swinub weakly lifted his head, the air around him crystalizing with frost. Before the shards could launch, another wing slammed into the pig's head, sending the shards wide and into the nearby wall. Tiny embers of hatred ignited within the girl, a fire that launched her towards her target's opening. Her knife plunged into the fearow's shoulder, cutting its mirth short.

Dawn could only scream and drive the blade deeper, feeling equal parts empowered and terrified. The fearow screeched and swung her around, thrashing in place when she wouldn't let go. She clutched her weapon like a lifeline, an act which grew harder and harder with every frantic flail stronger than the last. Each twist drove the knife deeper. Spurts of blood slickened her hands. The fearow suddenly shuddered, its movements and cries weakening, until the bird slumped to the floor.

The bluenette slid off the body, noting another series of frigid daggers sheathed into the bird's chest and head.

"Swiiii," the ice piglet groaned.

"Swinub, are you o-" Dawn nearly bit her tongue in two. Something slammed into her hard, and the ground beneath her feet fell away. Any attempts at organized thought were scattered in the white sea of pain that erupted from Dawn's chest and back. The girl was loosely aware she had slammed into the wall across the room and felt the floor on her face, unable to discern where one wave of pain started or ended.

An island of panic surfaced from the ocean of agony. She tried to draw breath, but her nose and mouth refused, her pain overwhelming her need for survival. Her face felt wet and her feeble attempts to lift her head were rewarded with an insistent, searing pulse where her nose was. Blood dribbled down her chin and as her vision started to clear, what she saw made her wish it hadn't.

Standing at the entrance to the kitchen was another fearow, looking down at the body of his comrade before shifting his hateful glare to her. Dawn attempted to crawl, but the pain and the meager few inches she gained only served to remind her that there was no way for her to escape. The fearow was already standing over her, the world around her growing brighter and fainter.

***

"Did the wind stop?" Chimchar asked, wincing when a droplet of water landed on his shoulder. While it depleted her uses of the technique, Chimchar was grateful Buneary had sealed the top of the trench with her Ice Beam to keep the debris from burying them. It was holding for now. While they were safe hunkering down in the trench, the idea that the others might still be fighting for their lives without them didn't sit well with him.

"Don't feel any wind," Bulbasaur replied, reeling back one of the vines he had snaked through the dirt to the surface.

Buneary's ears were fully extended. "But I do hear fighting."

"Then let's hope we can get the jump on the birds," Buizel cried, already forming a quivering sphere of water between his paws.

"Be careful with that," Venonat chided, "In a small space like this, the blast might end up hurting us before it breaches the surface." The water weasel looked around, the only light coming from Chimchar's back flame. With a nod, he dismissed the technique.

"Well, how do you suggest we get outta here?" Corphish grumbled.

"I think if we strike the ceiling all at once we should be able to lift the debris above us," Venonat said.

"I'll hold the fort down here," Torkoal chimed in. There was no way to easily get him out of the trench, but no one pointed it out.

Buneary pressed her paw to her chest.

"He'll be here, Buneary," Bulbasaur said. "They both will. Pikachu and Ash always come through for us in the end."

The rabbit pokémon turned to him. "I know, I'm just…they should be here by now, shouldn't they? What if something happened?"

A tiny vine extended from the base of the Seed Pokemon's bulb, gently wrapping around her paw.

"He'll be here," Bulbasaur stared at her intently, waiting. She nodded.

***

With his impenetrable acidic defenses, few opponents engaged directly with Muk. As such, the sludge pokémon did his best to lend aid to the battle pairs that had formed amid the chaos. Sludge Bombs herded his targets into the path of other attacks and well-aimed Disables worked wonders in turning the tide of exchanges.

Bayleaf's vines wrapped around the ankles of one fearow, letting Sceptile run along its length and decapitate the bird in one fell swoop. Kingler grabbed his opponent with his massive pincer, one whose beak had stabbed into Glalie's face, both unnaturally still.

At first Kingler thought his teammate dead and the fearow preoccupied with the kill, but as he grabbed the bird and tried to pry him off, the beak snapped off and the fearow crumbled into meaty slush in his grip. Glalie roared at the sky; whether from pain, victory, or both was anyone's guess.

Donphan rolled across the blood-soaked battlefield, darting between beak strikes and dishing out mud for their trouble. As he drew closer to his target he slammed his trunk against the ground and felt the ground fall away. Snorlax knew the routine, sucking in his ample gut just as the Armor Pokémon pressed against him. Donphan felt the plush texture for only a moment before it abruptly pushed back and sent him flying. The ground beneath him was showered with the blood and feathers of those in his path.

Three figures leaving the chaos caught Muk's eye. Scizor and Azumarill followed their trainer to the back entrance of Oak's house.

Is he abandoning the fight? Does he think this battle is lost?

His train of thought was quickly derailed when the earth beneath him quaked. Plumes of dirt spewed from the trench, drawing the eye of every fighter on the field. The stillness held for a few seconds until a barrage of fire, leaves, and ice sliced through the dust clouds. The fearow above Oak's home fell away, losing only a few to the onslaught of elements and recuperating quickly.

Three fearow came together, their wingbeats flowing into the rhythm of the others. The earthen cloud dissipated and the Pokémon inside fought against the gales. But the wind won out in the end and sent them tumbling beyond the trench. Muk focused on the centermost bird. A glint of crimson off his eye and fearow froze in place, outlined in blue. The remaining two shifted their bodies, blasting him with waves of wind. Muk's hands found no purchase in the mud, leaving furrows in the dirt while the battle grew more and more distant.

"Keep him away from the others," one of the fearow squawked to the other and kept up the assault, until they too left the battle entirely.

***

Several fearow broke away from the flock above the house, seeing the tumbling Pokémon beyond the trench as easy kills. Those leading the charge, lost in the zeal of the chase, had forgotten the strategic point of the trench and came face-to-face with a wall of fire. Those at the back managed to veer up in time.

Corphish rolled onto his feet, the screeches of the dying birds evoking a smile. He ran back towards the trench, past the charred and smoldering bodies, to meet the charge head on. The crunch of grass behind reminded him he was not alone. Ribbons of water and ice zipped past his head, beating him to the charge and forcing the fearow away.

"Oh, no you don't!" Corphish growled, leaping up and clamping his claw onto a fearow's foot. The bird screeched, but a minute of violent twisting and spinning failed to dislodge the unwanted hitchhiker. The fearow glanced at his leg, where the rust-colored crawdad's other claw was open, sending forth a steady stream of bubbles, none of which were aimed at him.

Airways around him were filled with them. Every aerial twist, every frantic flail, had helped Corphish spread the technique, turning the skies into a minefield. Desperate, the fearow launched kick after kick at the crawdad, but the Ruffian Pokémon accepted the blows and kept the bubbles flowing. His brethren dipped and dodged the entry hazards only to be shot down. Help from his allies would not be coming.

Corphish suddenly felt the world around him blur, the fields beneath him growing closer and closer. The fearow pressed its wings tight to its sides, with a deadly look in its eyes. It had no intention of breaking the fall. Even if he were to let go, from this height and at this speed, the moment he hit the ground the result would be the same.

At least I'll take one more of these bastards with me, Corphish thought as he readied another Bubblebeam. The attack had yet to leave his claw when Corphish was suddenly thrown sideways with enough force to rip off the fearow's leg. He soared across the field, feeling something snake around his body and yank him out of the sky.

"That was the coolest, dumbest thing I have ever seen you do," Bulbasaur told him, laying him onto the grass. Corphish teetered to the sides, trying to steady himself and looked to the fearow he'd been riding. A trail of feathers littered the trench it had carved into the earth.

Turtwig's mouth had clamped onto the fearow's neck, its eyes glassy and still. Buneary and Pachirisu leapt off its sunken chest, their eyes still aimed at the sky. Blood dribbled down the grass starter's lips, his body growing brighter when he snapped through the vertebrae.

Corphish smiled, but a side glance to Bulbasaur had him reconsider. Evolving was normally a joyous occasion, but the worry in the Seed Pokémon's eyes told him this would not be the case. As the light pierced through smoke above the field, heads turned. Dozens of fearow dove down, talons open and beaks aimed.

"Water Team, he needs cover!" Bulbasaur yelled. The air grew cool as water threads pierced the air around the Sinnohvian starter. The fearow veered off towards the source, then were promptly greeted by ice and fire.

Bulbasaur's eyes never left the lump of light that was Turtwig, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Already Turtwig's form was three times his original size and while he didn't doubt it would be powerful, it was the price of that power that had him concerned.

Just when the Water Guns started to falter, Turtwig's changes started to slow. The light on his body dispersed, revealing a long yellow shell flanked by two bushes. Grotle grinned, feeling the power brimming from every inch of his body as a ring of fearow formed over him.

Grotle managed a single step forward, but the flock had already descended. Pachirisu's cheeks sparked menacingly, but the absence of his Discharge attacks had emboldened the birds enough to swat him aside. Buneary darted out of range of each strike thrown at her, falling back to where the elesquirrel had fallen.

The first blow came from behind, the beak struck Grotle's shell with enough force to make his legs buckle. A relentless barrage of beaks followed, gouging out sections of his shell through the yellow glow of his Synthesis technique.

Most of the wounds were healing just as soon as they had been formed, but it was all Grotle could do to stay alive. His cries for help devolved into screams.

"We need to help him." Pachirisu pushed himself onto his hindlegs, drawing his aura into his teeth. Buneary could only stare at the avian mob around their teammate. With only enough strength to pull off one more Ice Beam, she had to make it count. Enough Fearow had evaded the technique enough times to teach her the range at which it'd be too short to dodge.

I could definitely hit one if I aim, maybe two if I'm lucky, it might even distract a third. Or if I send it at them horizontally I'll force them to fly up, giving Turtwig the chance to…No, he's too slow now in his new form. They would just converge on him again and…would my last Ice Beam even mean anything?

"Bun, we can't just leave him like that," the Elesquirrel urged. The bunny turned to him, his bright yellow cheeks catching her eye. Something clicked in her mind, and with that realization came a chill that settled into the depths of her core.

"We're not just gonna leave him, are we?" Pachirisu's voice had grown hushed. If not for her enhanced hearing she would've never heard him over the screams.

"No, Pach." Buneary's eyes had become misty. "I need you to jump over them and use Discharge."

The Elesquirrel went still.

"But…Bun, that'll-"

"He's already dead, Pach. Let's at least make it mean something."

Pachirisu turned away, looking for someone, anyone that could change the situation in their favor. Buizel twirled over a charging fearow, unleashing a vacuum blade from his tails into the bird's neck. Corphish and Totodile were also busy, claw and mouth clamped onto a fearow's legs, their combined weight bringing him low enough for Chimchar to climb up its body and snap its neck.

Venonat soared through the air, held aloft by Bulbasaur's vines, and acted as a fuzzy wrecking ball that imparted poisonous powders with every collision. Quilava's smokescreen parted to unveil a spinning twister of water holding Piplup at its core. The penguin spun in place, firing bubbles that launched through the swirling waters to the birds above. Fearow who bypassed the bubbles found their strikes deflected by the rushing waters.

He could see them notice Grotle, register his situation, then shift their focus back to the foe at hand. The moment of hesitation cost them. A kick here, a scratch there. Not enough to put them out of the fight, but their wounds were mounting. Pach could see the battle was taking its toll. More of their strikes were missing, their blows lacked the power they had at the start of the fight.

No help would be coming. No one could afford to come.

The elesquirrel glanced back to Grotle, still being pecked into the floor and screaming for help. Occasionally a fearow would take a break to glance at them, then resume the assault with newfound enthusiasm.

"If you're not going to at least spare him, then I will," the air around Buneary's mouth started to frost until Pachirisu held out his paw.

"I'll…I'll do it. I just need a lift, and then you need to run before I start."

Buneary gave him a grim nod, then rolled along the ground and tucked into a ball. She angled her legs towards the sky and flattened her ears against the earth. Pachirisu took the hint and hopped onto her legs.

***

Scizor struck the door's hinges the same second Azumarill slammed her fist against its center. The door flew across the hall until a pair of wings flared out from its sides. Tracy had yet to cross the threshold of the house when red and blue blurs flashed across his vision. A crimson cloud of fists from Scizor held a fearow at bay. Down the hall, Azumarill's Water Gun sliced apart any fearow entering from above.

Going off sheer adrenaline and vengeance, Tracy felt a twinge of dismay at the prospect of having no opponent of his own. That was, until he noticed the door they had blasted back had not fallen yet. The fearow down the hall shrugged off the slab of metal, turning to face the human already charging at him.

Tracy knew Pokémon were faster than him, but for many, their movements were heavily dictated by their biology. From that came a natural preference for certain movements, ones that made them predictable. The dozens of fearow sketches he'd drawn, detailing bone structure, ranges of motion, and offensive tendencies, flitted through his mind.

When he sees me, he'll rotate counter-clockwise and use that momentum to hit me with his right wing. The average length of one wing is five feet so…

Tracy halted his charge abruptly, bracing himself for the rush of air and brush of feathers when the wing swiped the space before him.

He won't do a full rotation to keep facing me. His kind typically follow up with a Peck attack if a frontal wing strike misses. His beak is a foot and a half long, based on the way his neck bends, he'll aim his strike at my midsection. Tracy had already sidestepped to the left, barely missing the beak that speared through the air where his belly was mere moments ago.

He'll be frightened that I'm inside his guard. The smart move would be to push ahead and tackle me to the ground, but he's never had an opponent this close to him before, let alone a human. He'll panic and move on reflex. He'll jump back and flap with his wings to cover his retreat. Or he would…

Tracy's arm was already lifted high, his wrist twisted the sharpened end of his pipe at the back of the fearow's head. When the bird reeled back its neck and kicked off the ground, the pipe bit into its flesh. Momentum did the rest.

The body crumpled onto the ground and slid a few feet. Tracy's pipe sprouted from the fearow's forehead, like a grisly horn. Oak's assistant paid no mind to the cracking sounds behind him as yanked his pipe out of the bird's skull. He slid the pipe along his pantleg until it was dry, so absorbed in his task he didn't hear gurgled squawks growing louder and frantic. Once he was sure his weapon wouldn't slip out of his hand he turned to face his Pokémon, ignoring the beak shards that skittered along the tile.

The sight of crimson bubbles on Scizor's carapace sent a chill down Tracy's spine but the Pincer Pokémon gestured to the bloody remains of his last opponent. The artist calmed down, if only slightly. All the combat was causing Scizor to overheat, and it wouldn't be long before it was the metal that was boiling instead of blood.

Azumarill's focus was trained on the breach in the ceiling, occasionally firing her Water Gun through it as a reminder to any Fearow outside.

"Azu, when you have a moment, can you douse Scizor a little?" The aqua rabbit glanced briefly at the bug then released a thin spray of water that quickly sizzled into steam. Scizor hummed in relief.

"Azu, make sure no one comes through the breach. Scizor and I will check on Dawn and…" The battered railing, scratched walls leading upstairs, caught his eye.

To Oak's room.

He's dead. It doesn't matter anymore. Dawn is alive. She might be in danger. All she has is her Swinub. That won't be enough to protect her. What does it matter what they do to his corpse? It's not even him anymore. It's just a body. He'd want you to focus on Dawn. She volunteered to stay behind and help. You owe it to her. I can't just…Dammit. Dammit!

Tracy was already flying up the steps, taking them three at a time.

"Scizor, check on Dawn," he roared, his heart pounding in his ears. He was gone by the time the metal mantis nodded, fighting the urge to go after him.

"Will you be okay here?"

Azumarill didn't look at him, firing another thread of water and barely missing the head of a fearow who had cautiously peeked inside. "Yeah. I'll be fine."

Scizor didn't move, glancing towards the entryway where the door once was. A fearow could technically enter by squeezing through, but by that point Azumarill would have ample time to kill them. Their corpse would only serve to impede whomever tried to come through afterward.

"I know you're old, but I'm pretty sure you heard Tracy tell you to check on the girl. Get a move on, old timer, I'll be fine." Azumarill's playful smile lasted a few seconds, then morphed into a menacing scowl. An overzealous fearow above them found a new hole through his chest.

"I'm not that old," Scizor huffed, "Not yet at least."

The mantis spun away and darted into the living room, taking in the devastation for a heartbeat and continuing towards the kitchen. He was almost at the door when the body of a fearow flew out and slammed into the corner of the room. Scizor chanced a glance at the bird, just in case he needed to deal the finishing blow, but found nothing more needed to be done. The beak Pokémon was mangled and rigid, covered in red icy patches.

In the kitchen's entryway, a large hairy mass blocked the way.

"Dawn needs help," the Piloswine cried.

***

Tracy's heart hammered hard against his ribcage with every door he saw knocked off its hinges. The lab equipment and furniture remained undisturbed; none of those things held any value for the fearow. What they wanted were bodies, and they would find one. Tracy just wasn't sure what they would do to Oak once they found him.

He reached the open entryway to Oak's room. Two fearow were in the room, one by the professor's bedside, another with its back to him. The professor hung off the ground, a fearow's beak skewered through his chest. Tracy knew the professor had been dead long before the battle ever started, he had gone peacefully, but the scene felt as if he were losing him all over again.

Though he held the element of surprise, Tracy howled. It was a sound unlike anything they had ever heard. It was a sound of pain, of loathing that descended into something primal. Tactics he'd formulated for the fearow were burned out of his mind, spittle flying from his mouth as he snarled.

"Let. Him. Go!"

It was the only warning the fearow had before the human lunged forward, and for a moment the birds forgot they were facing a mere human.

***

Another set of scratches were carved into Snorlax's blubbery flesh, drawing out a pained groan from the drowsy giant. It had earned a dozen casualties, but the fearow were learning to deal with him. Every inch of Snorlax's body was covered in deep scratches, patches of his fur were now dark and glistening. The attacks had started to take on a certain rhythm. A fearow would feint a strike to draw his focus, making sure to keep just out of his reach. With his focus on one, the other fearow swooped in to leave a simple cut and retreat.

Death by a thousand cuts was a slow process, but the fearow were willing to carry out the task. A quick glance to their fallen brothers on the ground reignited their hatred. One fearow drew close, baiting the beast to strike at him. Snorlax reared his arm back for an Ice Punch and swung at the air between them. Though the blow missed, he kept moving, whirling around to strike the fearow coming in from behind. The bird froze and shattered, stunning the others behind him with a spray of ice and meat.

The fearow that feinted felt himself yanked out of the air and bashed into the barriers that enclosed Oak's house with a bone-shattering slam. The brutal display didn't dissuade the fearow from maintaining their assault. They kept their distance, watching and waiting to strike.

Snorlax took a wobbling step to steady himself, a reminder of his blood loss. A sidelong glance to the others told him his hopes of finding some form of aid were low.

Sceptile and Bayleaf were holding out, a feat considering the number of fearow they were still facing. Donphan had joined them, forming a defensive perimeter around them as he rolled. Glalie's shots were missing more and more as the fearow kept to the right of him where his eye was missing. Kingler pinched the air menacingly, daring anyone to come and try to flank the ice type.

Another fearow lunged at Snorlax, veering off at the last second to avoid his frosted fist. Snorlax knew it was a feint and shifted his stance, spinning his body around to turn his downswing into an uppercut. Just as he had predicted a fearow had been there, but its head was unexpectedly missing when his Ice Punch connected. The beheaded birdcicle soared through the air, landing on some far-off spot on the battlefield.

"Behind you," a voice from below him said. A red blur darted between his legs and jumped into the air behind him. There was a squawk and something warm splashed against his back before he could turn around. At first Snorlax thought it was Tracy's Scizor, back on the battlefield to help, but looking closer he could see the shape was too humanoid.

Tracy? Is that armor? Is that why he left the battle? No, that wasn't Tracy's or Ash's voice.

The armored human lifted his blade and slid it back into his sheath, gripping the hilt tightly as he bent his knees, legs evenly spaced. Most of the fearow were reluctant to move against this new, exotic opponent. He appeared human, but his movements were too fast to write him off as such.

An impatient fearow dove at him and though only a few inches stood between the two, the human didn't move.

At least, he didn't appear to.

Snorlax felt the air shift, a minute tremble in the human's frame, his sandals digging ever so slightly into the soil. He never saw the blade unsheathe, but the charging fearow's head was soon twirling over the human's shoulder. Then went the wings, and the legs, effortlessly sliding off muscle and bone until all that was left was a bleeding torso. A backhand knocked it out of his path before his hand retreated to hover over the hilt. Snorlax glanced over to the others and found that they too were no longer alone.

A figure atop Kingler's massive pincer was launched into the throng of fearow above them. Croagunk twirled around, firing needle after needle into the birds that converged on his position.

His webbed hands caught a beak aimed for his head, then swung his body over the fearow's crest and onto its back.

The fighting frog slammed a glowing purple fist into his unwilling mount and felt the bird's body go limp. The fearow's allies closed in on him again, but the damage had already been done. The frog darted from one bird to the next, imparting a punch with each encounter and leaving a path of falling fearow in his wake.

***

"Brock, how are they doing?" Tracy's hoarse cough was shadowed by a wince, his body propped up against the wall. What little strength he had left was keeping him conscious, but the act of lifting his head was beyond him. The flesh from his forearms to his fingertips was raked and shredded, bleeding through the cloth Jessie had hastily wrapped around them. James was busy trying to stabilize Dawn who lay quietly on her back further down the hall.

"Having some of our Pokémon out there helps," Brock replied, unsure if he should be proud or horrified at what his Pokémon were doing.

"What about Muk?" Tracy mumbled as if half asleep.

"I still don't see him, but Meowth and Seviper said they'd find him and bring him back."

"I'm surprised you're back. Ash told me you were heading to Pewter City."

"I was, but there's some things between Viridian City and my hometown that I can't do alone. We came back here to see if we could get some help. Which reminds me, where are Ash and Pikachu?"

Tracy was quiet, long enough for Brock to wonder if the artist had passed out until he eventually spoke.

"They…they left to get help from his old Pidgeot for this fight. That was hours ago."

Jessie came down the stairs holding a roll of gauze and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. From the look in her eyes it was the only useful thing she could find upstairs.

"The twer-" Jessie immediately cleared her throat, then continued. "Your friend will be here. He always comes through for you all in the end. He's been doing it for years."

***

"Ivec, this has gone long enough! Now their reinforcements have come and we're down by half. It has been well over the time you asked for and-" Ukeke turned only to find the space behind him empty.

"So, it has begun," Ukeke mumbled and gave the signal for the others to disperse. Those that valued their lives fled.

***

Buneary whirled around once she was sure she was out of range of Pachirisu's Discharge and saw the fearow still gathered around Grotle's body. He'd been flipped onto his back, beaks burrowing through his scales and pulling out his entrails with every peck. His screams overpowered her. She tried not to lift her gaze and risk giving away Pachirisu's position but Grotle's cries ate away at her resolve.

What are you waiting for, Pach? Just do it already!

She chanced a look up but didn't see him. Except, she did; just not all of him.

Buneary stepped away, unwilling to trust what her eyes were seeing and scanning the rest of the sky for the elesquirrel. The fearow that once darkened the skies were flying away, but none of them held Pachirisu's body. The only proof of Pach's existence was tumbling through the air. Her enhanced hearing turned against her with the sound of Pach's skull crunching against earth, each bounce like the rumble of thunder that summoned a wave of nausea.


	23. Seeing Red

"How long are we supposed to keep this up?" Stelkry groaned between wingbeats.

"S'long as it takes for the fight to be over," the other fearow, Kiirithi, replied. "Besides, do you really want to go back there and risk dying? Even if we're not on the battlefield, we're doing our part to ensure the flock wins. I'm sure Ivec will reward us with a fair share of the meat, and our young will never go hungry or fear capture ever again."

Stelkry offered no comment. The look in Kiirithi's eyes told her he had drank in every word before the attack. The old fearow had made some decent points, but Stelkry wasn't about to be swept up by a few passionate words. She had young to feed and protect. She needed to be alive to do that.

"We can't keep doing this forever. We'll eventually have to stop. Even if the flock wins we still don't have a way of dealing with this creature. He'll probably come back for revenge," Stelkry pointed out and watched the mass of ooze tumble across the grassy fields, still untouched by the battle.

"Who cares! By then Ivec can deal with-" Kiirithi's words, along with his throat, were cut short. Stelkry's focus immediately shifted to her gurgling teammate. Something small was mounted on his back, claws extending from its upraised paw, glistening red in the sunlight. The strength in Kiirithi's wings faltered, gravity hungrily dragging his body back to the earth.

Meowth leapt off his plummeting platform and spread out his arms and legs. Several meters below him was Seviper, tucked into a tight coil and watching his descent intently. When only a few meters remained she sprang up to meet him, wrapping her body around his. The black serpentine ball hit the ground and unraveled upon impact.

Stelkry winced when Kiirithi's body slammed into the earth, kicking up a plume of dirt. She glanced back at the Muk, his hands digging into the soil to bring himself to a stop. Her gaze flitted back to the meowth, now balanced on the flat end of the snake creature's tail. The memory of her young back at the nest flashed through her mind. Her next move was a simple one.

Seviper was about to launch when Meowth held out his paw. Muk stared at the fleeing fearow, sorely tempted to use his last Disable. He shook his head and glanced over to the dark serpent and the meowth.

A meowth standing on two legs...

The Sludge Pokémon reared up to full height, molding a sphere of toxic slime with his tongue. While his interactions with Team Rocket had been limited, run-ins with that trio had been a popular topic among Ash's Pokémon at the ranch. Wild stories were exchanged of their battles.

"Relaxsss," the viper hissed gently.

"We're not here ta fight or catch ya. Wit how crazy everyting's been, we're formin an alliance wit da twerps. We're helpin fight da fearow," Meowth explained.

Muk held his pose for a moment. Part of him still felt this could all be some elaborate trap, but the absence of a certain motto helped confirm Meowth's claim. That, and every second they were away from the fight was another chance for his friends to get hurt. Or worse.

***

Sudowoodo hopped over the trench, having checked on Bulbasaur's group, and waved his arms to the others by Oak's house.

"The fearow are retreating!"

Glalie and Kingler looked elsewhere, watching the fall of one fearow and the figure riding atop it. Croagunk leapt off the body just as it slammed into the ground and became a feathered heap of ruptured organs and shattered bones. While rolling across the field wasn't the most stylish landing, Croagunk dusted himself off, looking no worse for wear.

"Seems you did your job too well," Glalie grumbled, eyes still to the skies, "Guess we won."

Croagunk cocked his head to a side, glancing up. The birds were now keeping their distance.

"Wouldn't say that yet," Kingler's lips were covered with froth, "They're too far to do anything to us, but they're not exactly leaving. It almost looks like they're-"

"Watching us," Croagunk finished. He felt his body shudder.

Glalie turned. "Think they'll do that windstorm thing ag-"

A crimson blur flashed across the field, followed by a blast of wind. No one moved at first, eyes darting back and forth until another movement, slower this time, caught their eye. The armored human was the first to notice Snorlax's presence bearing down. He darted away as the headless bulk of Snorlax's body slammed onto the space where he once stood.

Blood pooled from his neck and soaked into the soil. It had been too sudden, too fast for anyone to comprehend. For a long time everyone simply stared at the black and bleeding mound of fur until Glalie broke the silence.

"What…what just happened?" Glalie swiveled back and forth, fear cracking the mask of anger he was struggling to maintain. Croagunk felt his body shudder again, just seconds before seeing something scarlet slash through the ranch. Had he blinked he would've missed it. The game of Spot the Difference began anew, except this time the change wasn't hard to miss. Sudowoodo was already spinning through the air. The imitation Pokemon spun for a few meters then slammed into the ground, joining the shattered fragments of his arm.

"Sudo!" the fighting frog croaked loudly, but fought the urge to run to his friend. He had to remain calm and figure out what to do. Losing his cool wouldn't help his friend get his arm back, it wouldn't help any of them survive this new nightmare.

Sudowoodo was quiet at first, then slammed his remaining arm against the ground with enough force to lift him to his feet. He teetered for a moment, the missing weight throwing off his balance.

"I'm...I'm okay. I can still fight," he yelled, at odds with instincts that told him to run for the woods and stand completely still.

"I think it's safe to say that this might be their leader's doing," Sceptile growled.

The armored human, having introduced himself to Brock as Samurai, had fully drawn his blade now. He faced east for a few seconds then rapidly shifted his stance to face the west, always with his blade held before him. Croagunk felt another shiver, then another flash. This time the rush of wind blew past Samurai.

Everyone expected him to fall or for something to be missing, but the human swiftly turned around and held the same stance as before. Unharmed and undaunted.

"Interesting," Croagunk mumbled.

"Where is he coming from!" Sceptile yelled, slashing at the air with glowing leaves.

"Save your energy," Croagunk yelled, then turned to the ice type behind him. "Think you can make an ice box around us?"

"I'm running really low, but sure. How thick do you need the wall?"

"Not very. Keep in thin and do it quickly."

Glalie nodded and went to work. A glacial wall quickly rose behind the path of his icebolt and was halfway across the field when Croagunk felt a tremor run up his arm. He hesitated, unsure if it was from the cold Glalie was radiating or his own ability. The red streak returned to answer and Donphan's body tumbled along the ground.

"Donny!" Sceptile screamed and ran over to him. As he drew closer he could see the plated pachyderm's eyes were open, his breathing labored but still there. The plates on his forehead had parted. The deep wound traveled halfway down his trunk. Rivulets of blood seeped over his hide.

"I'll be okay," he groaned.

"Just get some rest, we'll take it from here," Sceptile replied, his breath misting as the ice walls rose higher. He spun around and faced the frog. "Tell me you have a plan."

"I'm testing something." Croagunk glanced at the fearow in the sky. "Whatever this attack is, it's something the fearow don't want to get caught up in."

"Do you recognize the attack he's doing," Bayleaf asked, shivering as the ice spread from one wall to the next, blocking out the sun.

"No, not yet, but…" Croagunk was already shivering from the cold when he felt a familiar tremor in his bones. "Down!" he croaked and dove for the dirt.

The others, even Samurai, followed without question and were rewarded when a layer of slush sprayed over them. Croagunk rolled back onto his feet, scanning for any casualties, finding none. The only change: two holes in the ice, each on opposite sides of the box.

Well that answers that.

"How do you know when he's coming?" Kingler asked.

"My kind can sense when something hostile has an element we're weak to. The humans call it Anticipate." Croagunk ran around the field, a desperate attempt to inspire warmth back into his body and make himself a harder target. The others did the same but tried to stay within range of his voice.

Samurai held his ground. No one bothered to tell him otherwise. As far as Croagunk was concerned, his method had kept him alive so far. That, and it confirmed one of his suspicions.

"I don't need to see my opponent for me to sense them," Croagunk continued. "So, if these attacks are coming from the fearow's leader, then he's entering and leaving my range every time he strikes. This ice box proves he can only go in a straight line when he attacks. At the speed he's moving, he probably can't see well when he charges in. I'm guessing he charts out an attack route from a distance. This box hides us from view, it's why the last attack didn't hit anyone. It's probably why he's not attacking right now."

The others glanced around and realized that in the entirety of Croagunk's explanation he had yet to be interrupted.

"The ice walls I made aren't thick, so he can demolish our cover no problem, but I'm guessing that moving so fast puts a strain on his body. He wants to finish this quickly and he's probably picking us off based on who he can safely finish off in one blow," Glalie added.

"That might also explain why he's only attacking us from the east and west, but not north and south," Bayleaf chimed in.

"Not sure I follow," Kingler admitted, scratching the base of his chin with his smaller claw.

"Over there is where Brock and the others are," Croagunk stretched his arm to the right of the group at a wall of ice. "At the speed he's moving he probably can't make quick stops or turns. He needs to do it with enough space to slow down. That's probably why he keeps leaving the range of my ability. If he came in from the south, he'd smack into the barriers protecting the house and kill himself. Curving around the house is either too hard or makes him lose speed, so coming from the north is pointless."

Sceptile and the others nodded, then glanced to Samurai. The human was still shifting stances, oblivious to their conversation. The Hoenn starter jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "What about him? Why wasn't he hurt when the leader attacked him?"

Croagunk gave a rare smile. "If their leader had attacked the human, it would've killed both of them. Would've saved us a lot of trouble. I'm guessing he noticed that metal thing in his hands and twisted out of the way. He would've skewered himself just to kill the human."

"Been a while since he's attacked," Sceptile noted. Croagunk nodded.

"Could be that he's deciding how to proceed without being able to see us or he's picking off the others beyond the trench. Let's hope it's the first one."

The shadows inside the ice box felt heavier at the thought. The silence gained a palpable weight,pressing down on them.

"And if it isn't?" Glalie asked.

"Then we need to work quickly on a plan," Croagunk replied. "Running out there without an idea isn't going to help them, it's suicide. I hate it as much as the rest of you, but right now, all the others can do is buy us time to bring him down."

"Hopefully they've retreated to the trench," Kingler said aloud.

"Well then, what do we do?" Bayleaf craned her neck from side to side.

"My ability kicks in a second or two before he comes for another run. Kingler, on my signal, fire a Hyper Beam to where I point." The king crab bobbed his body.

"A lot of good that does us if we can't even see him. How is he so fast?" Glalie snarled.

"Not sure, but we can at least know what move he's hitting us with." The fighting frog shifted his gaze to his teammate. "Hey, Sudo."

"Yeah?"

"I need you to use Mimic."

Croagunk could see a light behind his eyes and knew the stone tree had put the pieces together. In seconds the forked crest on his head began to glow. Sudowoodo's eyes were closed. A red aura, soft and thin, outlined his body. The light it gave off was like the smolder of dying coals.

"What is he doing?" Bayleaf turned away from the ice walls. Even Samurai had stopped his shifting dance to watch what was going on.

"Using the last move that he was hit with," Croagunk explained, "But I don't recognize it."

"It's Frustration," Sudowoodo answered, eyes still closed. It sounded as though he were learning the move as he explained it to them. "The more hatred and anger the user feels, the more powerful the attack is."

Croagunk studied Sudowoodo's thin aura, how it paled in comparison to the roaring flame of the fearow leader's technique.

"What did you guys do to the fearow to get their leader this angry?"

Sceptile's jaw tightened. The twig between his lips snapped. "We didn't do a damn thing to those bastards!" The grass starter roared, the pieces of his twig joining the spittle. "They attacked us first. All we've done since then is defend ourselves!"

"This one-on speaks the truth-uth," a voice from around them echoed. The Pokémon blurred into motion and adopted defensive stances. The fearow in their midst was unnaturally still, wings outstretched as he floated in place. Droplets of something rained from a purple rag in his talons. Looking closer, Sceptile noticed the bird was old and missing an eye. His body shifted back and forth ever so slightly, the subtle blur at his sides betraying the illusion that he was floating.

The way his body moved, or wasn't moving, reminded the Hoenn starter of his experience in the last few days.. He knew the move their leader was using, because he had used it himself.

Agility?!

In the days before Ash's arrival, Sceptile had spent a lot of time helping Azumarill scout for incoming raids. There wasn't much to do while she listened, so he had taken to meditating in case of a quick retreat. Ever since that terrible night, he noticed how certain moves now functioned differently.

Agility now required meditation. He found that could split his focus and do it during combat, but he was never as fast as when he had a moment of quiet to center himself and focus. A minute generally yielded two minutes of speed increase. Clearing distances became easy and gave him an edge in his fights with the flock.

It was on the third day of scouting with Azumarill that he tried pushing his limits and meditated for five minutes. While he was certainly faster, he soon found more downsides than benefits. While Azumarill couldn't follow his strikes, stopping or redirecting his swings was more exhausting then an unaltered flurry of strikes. Many of his attacks sent him twirling across the field, wild flails far removed from the finesse and precision he needed to end fights quickly.

Was he meditating all this time? How long have we been fighting? Ten minutes? More?

"I am Ivec-ec, lea-leader of the fearow-ow-ow. I have no qua-quarrel with you-ou."

The bird's voice held an unnatural echo, fitting perfectly with his abnormal stillness. Sceptile could've mistaken it for something divine, wondering if that was why so many fearow had followed him to their deaths.

Glalie took a quick side glance at Donphan and sneered. "You sure have a funny way of showing it."

"There need-eed not be any more-ore blood spilt-ilt-ilt. I shall extend-end the same-ame offer I did-id to your comrades outside-ide-ide. I pray-ay your wisdom will help you make-ake the right choice-oice."

Ivec opened one of his talons. A patch of purple fur flopped to the floor. Venonat's dull compound eye stared back at them.

"This will be-e your last-ast chance. Bring me the boy-oy and his rat-at or tell me their where-ere-abouts. Do this-is and all who remain-ain will be spared my wrath-ath."

Ash and Pikachu! He doesn't know they're away. If he finds out and leaves…I know Pikachu is strong, but can he fight this? He might be able to, but can he do it and protect Ash at the same time?

"You're not touching a single hair on his head," Bayleaf's loathing was on full display, no hesitation.

"I am a patient-tient and reasonable creature-ure. Surely she-e does not speak-eak for the rest-est of the group?"

Ivec found his response when Glalie launched an Ice Beam from his mouth. He would have dodged, except the attack zipped to the left of him. The alpha fearow wondered if it was meant as a warning shot until the ice type shifted aside, letting Kingler's Hyper Beam fire from his claw. With his left route blocked Ivec considered dodging to the right. Much to his amusement, the others were already moving to seal off his escape.

The grass type, one he had come to know as Sceptile, was in the air to the right of him and firing a salvo of seeds. Ivec peered through the golden wall of bullets, noting the green glow from Sceptile's arm leaves dim and build up again but in his tail. Above and below him were the newcomers that had joined the fight. The small purple one launched a stream of needles from his mouth while the brown one posing as a tree reared his arm back for a strike.

It was a good effort as far as he was concerned. Anyone else from his flock would have certainly died in this situation.

But Ivec was their leader for a reason.

He dove for the floor and kicked off the ground, launching himself towards the source of the beam. Ivec twisted past Bayleaf's vines reaching for him, holding the image of the human boy and the electric mouse in his mind. Like a wildfire, the crimson aura of his frustration manifested and enveloped his body.

With only a few feet to spare he thought the crustacean's fate was sealed, until something obstructed his path. The armored human, while slower than the others, made up for it in planning. He had moved next to the giant crab and held the blade at an angle across Kingler's face.

While thin and simple, the implement in his hands was no less dangerous than the attacks launching around him. Ivec could see the look in the human's eyes, daring him to continue his strike. The message was clear: Go on, take this life. It will be your last move.

Ivec flapped his wings and kicked the ground once more, soaring over Kingler and piercing through the ice ceiling.

They've figured out my blitz strategy and are already forming counters for it. Even without charging, my speed should be enough to deal with them. But then they're not who I'm looking for. This speed won't last too much longer. If I waste time with them I'll have no strength left for the boy and his pikachu.

Ivec gave the battlefield a cursory glance, his attention landing on the only place he hadn't thoroughly checked. The human dwelling…

Ivec tucked in his wings and dove down, easily finding the breach in the ceiling and swooping in. The Water Gun at his face came as a surprise but it was nothing he couldn't avoid. Azumarill's aim was still on the ceiling when he landed in her midst. The kick to her midsection launched her down the hall and into the field outside the house.

Scizor came at him next. The Bullet Punch he launched had all his strength behind it, so it didn't surprise him when he felt no resistance and saw his claw pass through the fearow's chest. Ivec paused to watch Scizor's smile dissolve, mirroring the afterimage he had just attacked. The bird was already behind him, talons gripping his ankles before hauling him into the air.

Ivec had studied Scizor over the last few days. He knew it was pointless to try to harm him with a physical move. Many fearow had died at his claws, never once bypassing his hardened exoskeleton. But the bug could not have armor everywhere. There were some things his armor could not defend against.

In the time he spent perfecting his technique, Ivec had learned many things. When moving at high speeds, stopping too abruptly did things to one's brain. What was meant to house and protect it could just as easily damage the soft tissues.

The metal mantis was slammed into the ceiling. Then the ground. The process was repeated several dozen times until Ivec grew bored and released Scizor's limp body. The bug had barely hit the ground when Ivec landed on him, pinning his wrists with his claws and driving his skull deeper into the tile with his beak.

"I'd say-ay this was revenge for all the fearow-ow who died by your claw-aw, but I'd be ly-"

A volley of ice shards shattered against the wall behind Ivec. From outside, it looked as if they had passed right through him. Piloswine could've sworn his attack had hit, but as Ivec's afterimage started to fade, he felt something strike him in the face.

The Swine Pokémon would've gone flying if not for Ivec grabbing his matted fur and holding him in place. Ivec yanked his leg back, ripping off a patch of fur in the process. Piloswine screamed, only to have his voice muffled by the ground when the bird slammed into him from above.

"I don't recognize-ize you, so you must be new-ew. Another slave-ave the boy-oy brought with him? You'll do just fine-ine. I'm afraid-aid I may have over-er-done it a bit. The bug probably can't answer-er-er my questions. I do so hope you-ou might have-ave the answers."

Ivec's jovial tone swiftly disappeared. "Where is the boy-oy and his pet-et-et?"

"I…I don't know," the ice swine groaned.

"A pity. Maybe this-is will jog-og your memory," Ivec sneered, plunging his claw into flesh. Piloswine howled and writhed against the ground. The fearow twisted his claw within the wound.

Ivec glanced at those in the hall. None of them were the ones he sought. A blue-haired one was lying facedown on the ground. Another, with dark hair, was propped up against the wall. The last three he didn't recognize were pressed up against the wall, shivering.

"Now-ow, let's try this again-ain-ain." Ivec drew his talon out of the wound, his voice sweetness and honey again. "Where-ere are the boy-oy and the pikachu hi-i-ding?"

"They're not here," Piloswine wailed, "they left to get help hours ago and they haven't come back."

Ivec's pupil shrunk to the size of a pinprick. All the preparation, all the fighters he had lost on this day, all so that he could learn that his target was no longer there.

I was so close! No. No! I will not let it end this way! I can't let it end this way!

"Where-ere! Tell me where-ere or everyone dies-ies!" The fearow screeched, raking his claws across his captive's flesh.

"I'm outside." A voice echoed in his mind, stopping his wing in mid-strike.

"Leave them alone." The voice continued, "They're not the ones who threw the stone at you."

Ivec's heartbeat was in his ears, the flap of his wings frantic as he rocketed up through the breach.

Finding his target was easy. Light panels around the human dwelling floated off and reassembled in the field beyond the trench. The Mr. Mime he'd seen in the last few days stood behind the boy, directing the panels into a cube around them with one hand while the other touched the back of the boy's head. His pikachu stood just outside the cube, probably confident he didn't need the added protection.

The boy had grown taller over the years. His pet was now thinner than when they last met. While the pikachu glared at him openly, the boy kept his head low, arms limp at his sides.

Ivec blipped in and out of view around the trio, never staying in one spot for more than a few seconds. He had seen far too many of his fighters get torn apart by the mime's psychic powers. But from those casualties he had learned that the range of those abilities was limited. He'd watched the mime latch onto his targets and reel them in until they were only a few feet from him, dispatching them with a neck snap or by crushing their insides.

"They told me you went-ent to get help-elp, yet I see-e no one," Ivec crowed, his words seemingly coming from everywhere at once. A tiny voice in his mind reminded him he shouldn't waste time with banter, that his speed boost would not last forever, but the catharsis overwhelmed such worries.

I've been planning this for years! I can spare a few minutes. It won't take long to end the fight in the end. If anything, I deserve to gloat a little after all I've had to sacrifice.

"No thanks to you," Pikachu's body crackled with lightning.

"I only-ly warned Pidgeot-ot of what would happen-en. How you would arrive-ive after year-ears of absence, then ask him-im and his-is new family to drop everthing-ing and die-ie for you-ou? Rather selfish, don't you think-ink? Could you-ou do the same-ame? If his flock-ock were in crisis, would you-ou abandon your quest-est and return? Would you send-end your mother into combat-at-at?"

Whips of white plasma lashed at the ground at Pikachu's feet, but Ivec couldn't tear his gaze away from the boy. His head had lifted sharply, teeth bared, fists shaking. If Ivec didn't know any better, he could've sworn he saw a purple glow radiating from his eyes.

But beyond the coloration and the glow he saw something, something familiar and intimate. It was the way the boy looked at him now. Gone was the innocent and naive sheen he often sported. It had burned away, leaving only the raw emotion beneath.

That fire, the utter contempt for him and every breath he drew. He knew it well. He saw it in every reflection, breathed life into it when the idleness of the years threatened to snuff it out. He'd done it. He'd brought the human down to his level. Each was now the bane of the other's existence.

"Then again-ain, you did-id send your friends-ends to fight me-e-e. Had you been-en here sooner and faced me-e from the start-art, more of your friends-ends would be alive-ive. The two of you-ou were my only tar-ar-gets so, their deaths-aths are on you-ou-ou."

As Ivec darted around he noticed the aforementioned survivors were absent from the battlefield.

They might be hiding in the ice box or in the trench, waiting for a chance to ambush me. It matters not. The mouse's electricity is troubling, but once I remove the boy his focus will falter, and in that moment, so will the element, and that will be my time to strike and end this. Their friends will be so distraught the flock and I can flee and recoup our strength if they come after us.

With the beat of his wings the world around Ivec blurred. In seconds, or what he registered as seconds, the streaks of color shrank back to normal and the scenery resumed its familiar divide of blue skies and green fields. For all the destruction the battle had wrought, the rest of the world appeared untouched by the carnage.

Memories of the pain and indignity he suffered coalesced in his mind. Ivec could feel his hate boil and bleed through his pores, pooling over his feathers until his body was covered in a corona of loathing. He peered into the distance, aiming for the flickering light where Pikachu was.

***

Ivec had been on the outer fringes of Mimey's psychic range and while he was too far to make a stable aura link that could physically alter his body, he could get his attention through a mental message. Even when he was closer, his movements were too fast for Mimey to get a hold of him. So he didn't try.

Ivec wasn't the only entity he could sense and while the bird was gloating, Mimey connected with Croagunk who brought him up to speed.

"He's coming!" Croagunk's voice echoed in Pikachu's mind. A red twinkle on the horizon was all the starter noticed when he jumped. Like countless times before, the aura coating his tail was molded, its wavelength shifting until it hit the steel frequency. Pikachu twisted his body, hoping to build enough momentum for the coming strike. He managed one rotation when a crimson whirlwind barreled into him. Pikachu's tail cut the side of the cyclone just before the rushing winds blasted him out of the area.

The world's colors cycled across the mouse's vision. If he had eaten anything before the fight, it would've been gone by now. His Iron Tail cut into the soil and slowed him down.

The mouse landed briefly, then tumbled another few meters. He tried to pick himself off the ground only to end up slumping onto his side. The world was spinning. Even the ground beneath his paws felt like it was sliding out from beneath him. He tried again, slamming his paw onto the ground in a desperate attempt to anchor himself. It didn't stop the turning completely, but slowed it enough for Pikachu to see where Ash and Mimey were.

Both had fallen to the ground, the upper half of Mimey's barrier box blasted away. Cracks snaked down the panels until each one shattered and dissolved into motes of light.

If Ivec had aimed any lower…

Pikachu smothered the implication and bounded towards the two. Mimey hauled Ash onto his feet, flinging his free arm out to Oak's house. More panels flew from the walls and linked together in a petal formation around the pair. With the flick of his wrist the panels dispersed and outlined the shape of a dome, their edges angled outwards.

If Ivec planned on charging them again, he ran the risk of impaling himself. There was just enough space for him to fit through the gaps if he tucked in his wings, but within the dome he'd be in Mimey's psychic range.

"This might stop him, but I thought the same thing for the box I made. It isn't safe for Ash to be out here on the battlefield," Mimey's message resonated in Pikachu's skull.

"Is there even a safe place for him here?" Pikachu thought back.

"The trench!" a third voice chimed in, one that the two recognized as Quilava. "He can't reach Ash down here without making himself an easy target. I'll give you guys some cover." The Johto starter poked his head out of the trench, a thick cloud of smoke pouring out of his mouth. Mimey aimed his hand at Ash's head, and a glimmering sphere of blue energy came into being. As the dark smoke billowed over them none of it breached their psychic bubbles. The two were halfway through the smokescreen when Ivec returned, bringing a tempest with him.

Ash's sneakers dug and furrowed the dirt for several feet. Mimey grabbed the boy by his wrist, his body now airborne and flailing like a flag. With a chop his other hand panels rained down over them, stabbing in the soil and diverting the wind. Ivec's wings were brown blurs, his first few wingbeats already clearing the smokescreen from the scene.

The mime thought of the boy's mother, and with newfound strength yanked him back down and wrapped him in an embrace. A panel slid beneath their feet as the other barriers converged and formed a small box around them once more. The remaining panels slipped into and over the trench and blocked it off. Ash wondered why until he saw Pikachu leap into the air behind the fearow's leader, his eyes full of hate, his cheeks burning white.

"Piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-KAAA!"

A cone of lightning, large enough to easily swallow Oak's house, erupted from the mouse's core and turned the world white and silent. Ash went completely deaf for a moment, until he could hear Mimey's groans and the frantic beat of his own heart. The air outside the box trembled and warped. The only thing standing between him and the roar of exploding air was Mimey and his sound-canceling hands. Ash felt the barrier rumble beneath him. The sheer amount of sound pressing down on Mimey brought him to his knees.

The light beyond the barriers began to dim, enough to let Ash watch his starter fall back to the ground. Smoke rose from the blackened path of Pikachu's attack. Off in the distance, Ash swore a section of the mountain range glowed. The mouse was a few feet from the ground when a gust of wind blasted him into the dirt.

"Impressive-ive," Ivec's three afterimages cackled as they flitted around the mouse. "Yet, for all that-at power, it's useless-ess if you can't hit your target-et-et-et."

Pikachu was on all fours, his tail raised and body sparking menacingly. The mouse silently hoped the bird took his gritted teeth as a sign of hate rather than the amount of pain he was in.

The starter's ear twitched seconds before the ice box behind Ivec exploded. Hunks of ice and waves of slush sprayed over the field. Ivec's afterimages faded as the real body twisted and weaved through the deluge of hail with ease. A glance back treated him to the sight of Pikachu retreating into the trench. The mere notion that he was forcing the mouse to retreat filled him with a child-like glee. The moment didn't last.

A chill ran through him like a knife, biting deep until it reached bone. The mist at the epicenter of the blast started to clear and from it Glalie appeared, open-mouthed and chilling the air before disappearing into the icy mist. Then another Glalie emerged to take his place for a moment and disappeared. Then another.

Ivec stopped counting when the mist cleared and over a hundred horned heads glared at him. It was not the first time Ivec had seen Glalie use Double Team. It was, however, the first time he had ever seen him take the technique this far. As high as he was, the cold was still reaching him, freezing his breath and draining his speed.

Ivec glanced down, seeing that the barrier box holding the boy and the psychic had now moved over the trench and was now empty.

I can't safely get to him in there, but he'll have to come out if his friends are on the brink of death and I start the executions. Their screams should suffice. But none of that matters if I lose my speed.

Ivec vanished from sight but the army of glalie didn't let up. Seconds later, a row of them burst into smoke, splitting the ice horde in two. Glalie, and the illusions that mimicked his movements, didn't bother searching for the source. Even as entire swaths of his doubles disappeared in blinks of an eye, the real Glalie kept filling the field with frigid air.

Only a handful of Glalie's copies remained by the time he ended the technique and raced towards the house.

"Come and get me ya fuckin' bird. Just focus on me," Glalie growled, watching the last copy burst into smoke. He was a few meters from the house when he spun around to check their trap.

Ivec had stopped a few feet from him, narrowly dodging the emerald blur of Sceptile's Leaf Blade from the side. Croagunk leapt off the grass starter's shoulder, both fists glowing with promises of poison. Ivec would've launched himself back if not for Samurai darting in a few feet behind him, the tip of his blade angled at his spine.

A light flap sent Ivec into a backspin. Croagunk's fists sailed through the space where Ivec's head had been and felt something slam into his jaw, his follow-up needle spray going wide. Ivec was halfway through his spin when the soil beneath him erupted and Chimchar's fist pushed through. The Alpha fearow kept spinning and accepted the blow. The Sinnoh starter's fist connected but seemed to do more help to the bird than harm as the bird used the momentum to launch himself up.

Their coordination is much better than before. How are they not slowed down by the cold?

Ivec then noticed his aerial ascent was not without company. Sceptile had jumped up with him and unleashed a series of vicious strikes. Ivec parried each blow with his beak and legs. While most of them were inelegant and clumsy, they were far faster than before. The exchange of blows had lasted half a second, but Ivec noticed the slight vibration in Sceptile's frame.

So, I'm not the only one with Agility. But I'm afraid one of us has had years of practice at this speed.

By the end of the first second Ivec saw his opening. Spittle sprayed from the starter's mouth when a well-placed kick slammed into his stomach. The blow launched him through the wall on the second level of Oak's house. With his view unobstructed, Ivec saw what awaited him on the roof.

The one known as Mimey was there, his hand resting atop Noctowl's head while her eyes burned bright red. Beside them was a new creature he was not familiar with. It was tall, blue, and bulbous at the top, covered in bandages with squinting eyes. A green glow radiated from Wobbuffet's body, forming a dome over those on the roof.

***

Mimey's eyes were closed, seeing through Noctowl's eyes. The Foresight technique had always been useful in dispelling illusions and revealing ghost types, but in the fight against Ivec Noctowl had learned something new. The faster Ivec became, the better she was able to predict where he would be in a few seconds. Paired with Mimey's strategy over the last few days to send mental messages of tactics to their fighters, the battle could now be shaped in their favor.

Forgive me, Delia. Mimey's brow furrowed. I hate doing this, and as strange as it might sound, it's the only way I can ensure he makes it out of this alive.

The mime flung his arm out, sending out fighters atop his panels for his next move.

***

Ivec's view of the Safeguard technique was suddenly obstructed by two orange Hyper Beams. Instinct told him to move, but he hesitated. Neither of them were aimed at him but instead a few meters ahead. Donphan was at the edge of Pallet Town while Kingler fired atop his platform over the distant and undamaged forest. In his moment of hesitation, the beams collided and the resulting explosion launched the fearow back.

Ivec recuperated quickly from the blast, righting himself after a few meters. The space around him was growing darker and cooler. A massive cone of water hovered above, large enough to eclipse his view of the sky. Ivec would've dived down, but a rush of hot air from below pushed him deeper into the churning maw of Piplup's Whirlpool.

A wall of white flames, courtesy of Torkoal and Quilava, rose to meet him. The water swirling around him started to bubble and steam, until Buneary's last Ice Beam froze it and summoned rows of icy teeth all along the interior. Ivec smiled.

Well played. Either I brave the flames and get roasted for my efforts or I take my chances breaking through the vortex of blades above me. Wait too long, the two will connect and the steam will cook me. The psychic must be coordinating their movements and somehow that Noctowl is pinpointing where I'll be. A good effort to say the least.

Ivec launched himself up, riding the rising air current and twisting his body until he started to spin. Piplup barely got Mimey's message in time and broke off the attack. Buneary grabbed the Sinnoh starter and hauled him onto the psychic platform she rode on. Ivec's Drill Peck shredded through the frozen cone, only to meet a field of volatile bubbles.

Buizel, Totodile, Azumarill, and Corphish stood atop their own psychic panels, slowly orbiting the bubble field. The moment Ivec came into view they unloaded every ranged move they knew, not on the bird, but on the bubbles around him. Mimey clenched his fist and reeled his arm back, pulling his panels, and the aquatic quartet atop them, away from the blast.

It wasn't long before a tunnel formed from the churning ball of smoke and Ivec burst through, smoke curling from the singed feathers on his body. He could feel more of his speed had been taken from him, a moment of reflection his opponents weren't keen on letting him have. A thin, white column of energy pierced through the air, narrowly missing Ivec's head.

"That's right ya bastard, look over here," Bulbasaur grumbled before darting back into the safety of the trench.

Ivec was about to glare until something caught his eye further up the field. He could see the boy now, riding atop the last of his tauros. The bull's body shifted, mirror images pouring out and forming an illusionary stampede, each one with its own illusionary rider.

"Fleeing the fight again? How typical." Ivec cackled and held the image of the boy in his mind. Crimson aura erupted from his skin, enveloping his body until he was wreathed in ethereal flames. Having seen how the technique started, aiming for the real target was almost laughable. Ivec brought in his wings and dove, pulling up a few meters short of the earth and surging towards his target.

His heart was pounding in his ears, his anticipation mounting. In a few short heartbeats he would feel the boy's blood on his beak and his mission would be half complete. His beak pierced through the first illusion effortlessly. Then the second. And a third. He was so close he could almost taste the blood. He could see the last row now. The boy's spine was mere inches from his beak.

And then the boy moved out of reach. The ground around him didn't move. The world had frozen.

***

"Ivec…lost?" one of the fearow said, shaking his head and looking to the others for confirmation. The murmurs of disbelief spread throughout the flock.

"We're leaving," Ukeke announced and began to turn away.

"But, we can still win. We have enough forces and by now they would have exhausted their energy. We could-"

Ukeke whirled around on the fearow and beat him upside the head with his wing. "Enough blood has been spilled today," the new alpha fearow said before taking point and guiding the flock out of the area.

***

"That was way too close, Muk," Tauros snorted as he rounded back and let Ash dismount.

"Blame Mimey, it was his plan to make him bait, not mine," the acidic ooze burbled.

"How long can you hold him?" Pikachu asked as he hopped up out of a trench Tauros had formed earlier, his Double Team stampede hiding its presence from view.

"A minute or two at most. Whatever you need to do, do it quickly. He'll move at the same speed once the Disable wears off.

"Don't need to tell me twice," Sceptile added, a Leaf Blade already prepared for the strike. Samurai was at his side with sword in hand.

"Can this bastard hear us?" Tauros rumbled.

"Don't know." Two slimy mounds rose beside Muk's head, the closest thing he had to a shrug.

"Let's get this over with," Pikachu reminded them, his tail burning white as it channeled the steel frequency.

"Don't kill him," Ash commanded, earning a round of puzzled stares from the others.

"Just... make sure he can't fight anymore," Ash continued. "I need to ask him something."

Pikachu, Sceptile, and Samurai nodded and took their positions. In tandem, each fighter blurred into action. The body didn't seem noticably different, but the trio seemed satisfied with their work and backed away. Heads turned to see Mimey surfing atop one of his barriers towards them. As soon as he was close enough he leapt off and ran the rest of the way. He had moved in to hug the boy until Ash's hand held him at bay and pointed to the floating bird before them.

Mimey nodded and stepped behind him, Ash felt a hand on his hair and the familiar prodding into his mind. With a glowing blue hand, the blue aura around Ivec thickened until the first technique dissolved. The fearow's body lurched forward for an instant, than froze again. The only difference was that unlike last time, the bird was now free to scream as his wings and legs fell away.

"Put him down," Ash ordered, his words full of ice.

Ivec's screams lasted only another minute before he quieted down, and laid his head against the dirt beneath him. He didn't bother to look at anyone, his eye was on the clear skies above them. His forces had left him here to die, but from his steady breath and closed eye it looked as though he had made peace with that.

A purple glow flared to life in Ash's eyes. The more he looked at Ivec, the more he could almost make out a red cloud that enveloped his body. Ivec's chest steadily rose and fell. Blood dribbled out from his wounds onto the earth. The graying edges of his feathers had traveled to the rest of his body, several of them falling out like dying leaves. He looked far older than he had at the start of the battle. He seemed resigned to stay silent until death took him.

"Why… why did you do this? Was this all because I hit you with, with a freaking rock?"

The question stirred him. "You think I did all thid because of a rock?" Ivec lifted his head to look at the target of his loathing.

Ash got closer. "I don't know why you did any of this."

Ivec's chuckle morphed into a rough fit of coughing. Blood seeped through the gaps in his beak. As soon as he caught his breath he glanced at the boy, staring at him with an intensity that could've flayed flesh from bone.

"You…you really have no idea, do you?" Ivec said in a whisper.

"I need to know why. Why all of this death? Why was all this destruction necessary?"

"Necessary? You want to talk about what's necessary? Why don't you tell me, human? What part of your world before our liberation was necessary?" Ivec spat out the last word, along with droplets of blood that speckled onto Ash's shirt.

"You say the word and I'll shut him up for good, Ash," Sceptile growled. Ash lifted his hand and gave his starter a stern stare.

"No one touches him until I say so," Ash commanded. The Hoenn starter lowered his arm and nodded. The boy looked back at the fallen fearow.

"What are you talking about?" The purple glow in Ash's eyes had flickered like a flame but remained just as intense as ever.

"What would you like to hear, human?" Ivec scoffed. "That the day we met was already the worst day of my life and your stone gave me the little push I needed. How it gave me purpose? Would it help you sleep at night knowing that my friends, the love of my life, and my family were all beaten and captured by the three humans that came before you?"

The purple glow around the Ash's eyes dimmed.

"I…"

"Your kind never thinks about it that way. You're all the same. You come in and lay claim to all you see. If someone resists then you find a way to break them and bend them to your will. The worst are the young ones like you. You find it so normal, so natural, that it never enters your thoughts that what you might be doing could be cruel or twisted."

"My Pokémon are my friends. They're with me because I asked if they wanted to come with me," Ash shot back, the purple glow flaring up once more. Ivec only sneered.

"Oh, how noble! How kind of you to ask them first. I'm sure the rest of the world is just like you. I'm sure every human asks if it's okay to take us from our homes to fight your proxy battles!"

"Proxy?" Ash fumbled with the word, unsure of what it meant but feeling the gist of it.

"What is it all for, human? Why pit us against other creatures? Does our pain entice you? Do our struggles and dances amuse you? Is it for some sense of achievement, and if so, are your victories really yours? No human lives are ever in danger in your little contests, so it's fine as long as the lesser creatures are harmed, right?" Ivec continued, lacing his words with his family's blood.

"Tell me, human. Your kind loves fighting so much, is not the slaughter you see here the spectacle your kind crave? Are you not entertained?" He motioned with his severed wing to the field around them.

Ash took the bait and glanced around, seeing dozens of avian corpses that littered the field. He could see the headless and bleeding mass that was once his Snorlax. Pachirisu's head wasn't far from the entrails that fanned out from Grotle's overturned body. The glow around Ash's eyes evaporated, his rage dissolving into grief.

"Enough!" Pikachu hissed, cheeks crackling.

Ivec let his head flop back down to the ground to see Pikachu behind him, a look of bemusement in his remaining eye.

"Then kill me or leave me! No one here but your master is forcing you to listen, slave."

"Ash is my friend and he doesn't own me. Call me a slave again and-"

"And you'll what? Torture me? Kill me?" Ivec laughed. Those who listened in from a distance would've thought the bird had heard the funniest joke in his life. Ivec flailed in place, sending spurts of blood out of his limbs.

"Am I to be punished for speaking my mind on my deathbed? For airing uncomfortable truths? I'm already on the brink, so I doubt I'll be much entertainment. How about the rest of my flock, hmm? I'm sure you're already planning to go after them once you're done with me. How else can you feel safe unless you capture or kill anything that could threaten you? Go ahead, finish them off. Prove me right!"

Mimey's hand held Ash in place, but his feet had lost their grip on the ground.

"What? Don't tell me you're already sated for today. Or maybe you're saving their slaughter for tomorrow. I know the truth about your filthy species."

"Humans needs creatures like us to survive. Humans thrive off violence, but giving into your impulses and turning it on your own people lowers your numbers. So, you use ours instead. You make us fight so that your kind doesn't resort to killing each other."

No one in the clearing spoke, but many did not meet Ivec's stare. The fallen fearow's cough had grown worse, a hollow sound that ended with a pitiful wheeze. He glanced around as if everyone had disappeared, each word harder for him to form than the last, as if he were forgetting what he was talking about in the first place.

"The age of humans will be over. I know… all of you heard the… the voice. It told us, it told us to reclaim the world… from the sickness."

His head dropped back down to the ground, his last words a deflating whisper.


	24. Dust to Dusk

Dawn's eyes fluttered open, gazing upon three cerulean rings glowing a few feet above her. A mess of thoughts cluttered her mind. One memory buoyed over the others: the fearow in the kitchen, then intense pain. She rose abruptly, nearly throwing Piplup off her from his resting place on her arm. Buneary's ears picked up the accelerated heartbeat, so she scampered over to the living room couch they'd left her in.

Dawn's hands flew to her face, feeling her nose and the back of her head. She breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't feel anything out of place. Buneary leapt into her embrace as did her starter. Holding them tightly, Dawn looked for Pachirisu and Swinub. She quickly noticed she wasn't the only one in the room.

A bundle of brown-stained bandages rested on the coffee table between them. Like her, three blue rings floated a few feet over him, bathing his half of the living room in blue light. Two Pokémon rested in the corners of the room with their own glowing rings. One was Donphan, snoring softly through his trunk. She didn't recognize the other but something about it felt familiar.

Shaggy fur, tusks, a…pig nose?

"Swinub?!"

The mound of fur twitched and snorted back.

"He evolved into a Piloswine during the fight," Brock explained, walking through the door with a first aid kit in his hands.

Dawn's eyes threatened to pop out of her skull. The Brock she knew had made for Viridian city days ago. She had already made her peace that it might be the last time she would ever see him again.

"The situation in Viridian City is more than Team Rocket and I could handle. We thought we could get some help here."

Dawn ran over and hugged him, her eyes already getting misty. Brock returned the hug and chuckled, rubbing the small of her back until she stepped away.

"So I'm guessing we won?"

"Yeah. It was a hard fight but the fearow's leader is gone," Brock explained.

"What about Ash? Did he-"

"He came back in the end with Pikachu. I'm told that if it wasn't for him we would have lost."

Flashes of blood, knives, and pain surfaced in Dawn's mind, making her shudder and hold herself. "Do I look okay? I don't see a mirror anywhere."

Brock smirked. "Your nose is a little bent but it's hardly noticeable."

Dawn's hands reflexively flew up to cup her face, muffling a distressed squeak.

"I'm kidding. It was bent before, so Samurai adjusted it so it would heal properly. Luckily, you were already unconscious."

"Samurai?" Dawn's hands slid from her face hesitantly.

"Long story. Someone from Viridian who came with us."

Dawn nodded, then looked up to find the rings had followed her from the couch. "Brock, what're these things?"

"Just a little something that I came up with so that we could heal everyone." Brock moved and sat at the edge of the coffee table, then gestured for her to sit. Dawn complied and watched her blue halos follow.

"As it turns out, your Buneary has the move Baton Pass, and Tracy's Azumarill recently learned Aqua Ring."

"Baton Pass?" Dawn glanced over to the bunny, who did a small curtsy.

Brock nodded. "It's not a move that's really flashy and none of her current moves really work with it so I'm not surprised you didn't know. Basically, it lets whatever ability enhancements on her to be transferred over to someone else. Aqua Ring is a healing move and while slow, it's consistent and will continuously heal the user."

"So Azumarill used Aqua Ring on Buneary and passed it over to me with Baton Pass," Dawn deduced. Brock shook his head.

"Close, but no. Aqua Ring is a personal technique. As much as she would like to, Azumarill can't give it to someone. That's where I got creative. See, James' Mime Jr. knows the move Copycat, so by having him copy the last move he's seen, he was able to temporarily use Aqua Ring on himself then copy Buneary's Baton Pass. He can do it about ten times a day, and so far it's been doing its job for eight hours."

Dawn glanced at the window and noted how dark it was outside. "That's how long I've been out?"

"Yep. I was able to scavenge some food from the other houses if you're hungry. I can stay here and look over Scizor and Piloswine."

Dawn looked over to the Swine Pokémon, resting quietly in the corner. She'd always figured Piplup would be the first of her team to evolve. What does it say that the newest member had done it first?

"He probably evolved because you passed out," Brock commented. It was so close to her thoughts she wondered if the breeder was secretly psychic. A loud snort from the corner of the room affirmed his theory. The two had a light chuckle. Dawn got up and headed to the door.

"Food sounds amazing right now." A soft squeal from the corner made her smile. "I'll bring you something back, Swi…Piloswine," Dawn corrected. "Though I can't imagine it'll be very filling for you now. If I let you eat your fill, you'd eat Tracy out of house and home."

Dawn was about to step out when something gave her pause. Her smile shrank. She turned around and walked back to the couch.

"Dawn?" Brock asked, but could see she hadn't heard him, her gaze switching from Buneary, to Piplup, to her Piloswine. Brock watched her do it again and suddenly wanted to be anywhere but in the room with her. She didn't look at him, arms rigid at her side.

"Brock, where's Pachirisu?"

If she turned around, if she looked at his face she would see the answer. She'd know what it meant, how couldn't she? Only a week ago he'd made that face, the face that told her about Ambipom. But she didn't have to. She didn't need to see him to know, to feel how the atmosphere in the room had changed. Piplup and Buneary's expressions weren't any better, and in the uncomfortable silence that followed she'd gotten her answer.

"Oh." The pitch of her voice was higher than usual. Slowly, she eased herself onto the couch; her gaze retreated to her lap. Piplup and Buneary immediately ran over and hugged her sides.

"How di…" the question died on her lips. She sucked in a breath and tried to exhale a slow, shaky breath. She'd prepared herself for this, braced herself for the possibility. She'd spoken to each of them just before the fight. She'd given them an out, made sure they knew the risks, but none of them took the chance to avoid the fight.

Dawn could still see the fire in Pach's eyes, the toothy grin he gave her before following the others to meet with Tracy.

He knew I loved him. He made his choice, just like I made mine…but how many friends do I have to lose before it's too much?

Brock wordlessly wrapped around her and pulled her close. He didn't apologize, he didn't say anything. He didn't have to. She hugged him back and felt the warmth of his hand on her head. For a moment she felt safe, safe enough to let go and feel how she wanted to feel. She didn't have to hold it all in and be strong right now. When she felt Piplup and Buneary join in on the hug, she didn't try.

***

Samurai was quiet for most of the walk with Quilava. While the fearow were diurnal predators, they had just lost their leader. A sizeable force remained. All bets were off. Quilava's head flame illuminated the dozens of corpses that littered the field.

"We can salvage that one and that one," Samurai pointed to two figures on the ground. Bulbasaur and Bayleaf's vines immediately coiled around the corpses and hefted them over to Kingler for transport back to the house. "We can't use that one," the swordsman motioned to another carcass. The flesh was blackened into charcoal; no doubt one of Croagunk's earlier victims.

Muk moved over the rejected cadaver. His body quickly bubbled and filled the air with sizzles. After a few minutes he would move to the next body, leaving scattered bones in his wake.

Having lived with his father in the woods for most of his life, Samurai had learned a thing or two about hunting, prepping, and cooking his kills. A glance to the bodies Kingler carried away left him wondering how much meat they could salvage.

Most them looked malnourished. Ivec, while old and aged even further by repeated uses of Agility, had looked fairly healthy compared to the rest of his flock. Samurai had insisted on sorting out the bodies, opposing Tracy's suggestion of dumping them all into a mass grave and setting them ablaze.

The man is blinded by hatred for these creatures, though I can sympathize. My feelings towards the beedrill have also soured as of late.

There was another reason Samurai had volunteered to collect the dead, and it was now just a few meters away. Quilava quietly shadowed the swordsman, even as he walked towards one of the houses off their route. Samurai had lost count how many times he'd visited the Mizutani household. Each time his father made a trip into town for supplies he always made time to stop by.

On their trips back, his father recounted the story of how their families knew one another. It was a story Samurai knew by heart.

Three millennia ago, his ancestor, a disgraced military commander, was stripped of his rank for brutal and wasteful tactics on the battlefield. Seeing the error of his ways, the man accepted his punishment and with nothing but the clothes on his back and the sword on his belt he left his homeland in exile.

He traveled as a ronin, never staying in one region for too long. For several years he merely drifted through each land he passed through, avoiding the warmth of women and companionship.

In his travels the ronin found himself in a land beset by war. The town he had stayed in for the night was on the path of an army numbering hundreds. They razed and pillaged every settlement they came across. The ronin thought to spirit away into the night and save himself, but six warriors refused to let the kind people of that small town suffer the fate that awaited them. Moved by their courage, the ronin stayed and defended the town, fighting for two days and two nights.

The king's knights eventually arrived, lending their aid and fending off the remaining attackers. So impressed by the actions of the seven, the knights invited the warriors to ride with them for an audience with their king. After three days of travel, the seven were greeted by the lord of the land. Five were granted titles and territory once the war had finished, but the ronin and another swordsman graciously declined the offer. The swordsman, a nomad like the ronin, had but one wish. In the days and nights that he battled, his sword had been broken. The swordsman's only desire was to have it repaired or replaced.

The king summoned his greatest blacksmiths and sorcerers, had his knights scour the land for the finest materials. The ronin again was asked if there was anything he desired, anything within reason that the king could grant. Again, the offer was denied but the king had it signed and decreed that should the ronin or his descendants return with a reasonable wish, it would be granted.

The ronin and swordsman traveled the land while the blade was forged. Upon its completion, the two left and settled in the Kanto region. Descendants of the two occasionally left the region to travel the world, settling in other lands. Yet, inexplicably, they always came back to Pallet Town and the Viridian Forest.

Samurai stood before the Mizutani household, the path to the front door collapsed into rubble. He saw two phantoms, one of his younger self and another boy, swinging and parrying the sticks they held in their hands. Hiiro never won any of their sword fights, real or pretend, but he'd always been a better strategist in Pokémon battles.

Maybe that's why he left and you stayed. He had a chance of being something great.

The ghost children dissolved as Samurai walked through them. He was almost behind the house when more memories made phantoms greeted him. The boys he saw were older now, though not enough to start a Pokémon journey. Hiiro's mother, Gwendolyn, had an arm wrapped around them while they cried into her shoulders. She did her best to not join in. She had to be strong for them. On the desk behind them lay two International Police badges, all that remained of their fathers.

I should've visited more. I could've been here when it started. If I had, she might've survived.

He stared at the house's back entrance, peered through the shattered double window.

A ghostly Hiiro stood beside him, an angry-looking charmander by his legs. Samurai's Pinsir, his ace Pokémon, lied quietly on his back. Steam curled off his body from the previous battle. It had been Hiiro's first fight, his first win.

"Takeda," the memory spoke, a name that only two people in the world knew.

Now only one, or maybe no one.

"Take care of mom while I'm gone."

He didn't have to say whose mother, she had practically adopted him. Gwen had often sent Hiiro into the forest to make sure he had enough to eat. The doors to their home had always been open to him. And yet, he always felt like the outsider.

"How you could feel more comfortable all alone, in a cabin, in the middle of a beedrill-infested forest is beyond me, Takeda." Hiiro shook his head. "Just ditch this place and move in with mom and me already. We have a room for you and everything."

Every time Hiiro brought up the offer, Samurai respectfully declined. He preferred his solitude in the woods to the temptation he felt when he stayed at their home.

The armored swordsman climbed through the window and moved to the living room. He saw her on the floor. He'd braced himself for the sight the moment he set foot in town, but seeing it right in front of him knocked the air out of his lungs. His legs buckled. The armor he wore felt a thousand times heavier. He braced himself with his scabbard, forcing himself to look at the scene and burn the image of his failure into his mind.

A long pink beak was skewered in her chest. Not to be outdone, she had returned the favor, a black sword peeking out from the fearow's back. She had gone down fighting.

Samurai once romanticized the idea of going out the same way. What other way could be more noble, more honorable? He fantasized that when the time came, Hiiro would be at his side. The two would charge into an army a thousand strong, and whether they won or not didn't matter.

Samurai pushed off his scabbard and moved closer, seeing the blade from the tale. He had seen it a dozen times before, pearlescent in the light. Now the blade had darkened. Dried blood coated its length, caked into the runes.

It can be mine now, a voice in his head whispered, a part of him he thought he had finally buried. Every step he took unlocked more and more of the shameful thoughts he'd harbored.

I was always a better swordsman than Hiiro. He gave up the way of the sword to go be a trainer.

Samurai's hand lifted to the sharpened edge, forged from Steelix hide and the king's late Aegislash. It would never rust, never dull. Few things on the planet could shatter such a fine sword.

I deserve it! I've trained harder, worked harder. It should be mine! The voice in his mind growled.

"No. I'm…I'm going to hold onto it," Samurai whispered to himself, "I'll bury his mother and find Hiiro and give him back the blade."

He's probably dead. Just like his mother. Only warriors can survive in this world. Leaving the blade with her rotting corpse would be a waste. It was meant to be wielded by a warrior, not a trainer.

"I love him like a brother and the moment I see him again I'll hand it over. No hesitation." Samurai chanted back, shaking his head to dispel the whispers.

He'd want me to hold onto it. He would want me to use it… to stay alive.

Samurai's armored fingers brushed the surface of the blade, across the blood-encrusted runes.

A burst of light suddenly filled his vision. leaving only darkness when he blinked away the purple spots. Samurai tried to look around, reflexively reaching for his blade when he realized it wasn't there. Neither were his arms, legs, or any part of him for that matter. Gone was the ruined interior of the Mizutani home, the light of Quilava's flame.

Blue embers flared to life from the distance and floated towards him. Even as they drew closer he felt no heat, but from their light he could see the sword. It was black as the void it floated in, fixed before him as humanoid figures formed from the flames. At first only a few figures appeared, then dozens.

"This is not your sword." The centermost figure lifted a flaming sword to him.

"A thief," the burning crowd grumbled, each brandishing their own fiery blades. "Graverobber!" A murmur of agreement flowed through their ranks as the flames intensified.

"Wait!" two flaming effigies broke from the crowd and stood between him and the conflagrant masses.

"He has the skill," one spoke, an almost recognizable voice.

"I helped raise him. He's practically my child," the other voice cried out. This time he did recognize the voice, but he couldn't reach her. Gwendolyn Mizutani and the other effigy, who he imagined was Hiiro's father, were the only things standing between him and the burning mob.

"Child by your kindness, but not by blood. The blade is not his birthright," the central speaker intoned.

"I see darkness in his soul," another from the crowd hissed.

"As if the rest of you are so pure," Gwendolyn shouted back. The blazing crowd rose into a wall of azure flame. Their voices united in an unintelligible roar. The central speaker raised his arms, and the voices around him quieted and fell back.

"The blade's inheritor has not left his world. While we sense that he still draws breath, no one shall wield this sword."

Samurai flew from the scene, the speed stripping away the darkness. The swordsman stumbled back and hit the wall. His breaths were short; it felt as though he were swimming inside his armor. Nothing in the room had changed. The bodies were in the same place, still connected by the blade.

Samurai gave a frantic nod and left through the window.

***

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but you guys are incredible," Tracy remarked as he stared down the hole Team Rocket had dug. Watching the duo dig was like watching art in motion. Not a single move was wasted. Every stab and swing of the shovel looked effortless, almost graceful. It was a testament to all the pitfall traps they had dug throughout the years. The powered through at a rate faster than most machines.

"Dis ain't nuttin," Meowth replied, legs dangling off the edge of the hole. "I got stories bout holes we'd made dat'll make ya head spin."

The scratch cat flinched when a shovel plunged into the soil beside him and James hauled himself up.

"This'd be going a little faster if someone were helping us," the bluenette grumbled, glaring daggers at his team's mascot.

"Between you an Jessie, how many fearow didja kill? Wanna know how many I got?" Meowth smirked, extending the centermost claw on his paw.

Jessie's Seviper slithered from the hole and circled around the cat, hissing all the while.

"Okay, okay. I got half a kill," Meowth relented and darted out of coiling range. The poison fang Pokémon gave a hissing laugh then dipped her bladed tail back into the hole and lifted her trainer out.

Jessie's shovel bit into the dirt at her feet and stayed there. Her eyes were hard and unfocused. She took the water Tracy handed her but didn't open it, instead quietly making for Oak's house.

James gave Meowth an uneasy glance. The scratch cat nodded and beckoned for Seviper to follow him.

"Is she gonna be okay?" Tracy whispered.

"She was fine until we started doing this." James shrugged and took the other water bottle Tracy had for him. "I'll talk with her and find out what's wrong." He drained the bottle in seconds and handed it back with his thanks. A trembling hand took it back.

James tried not to stare. While the wounds had finally closed, the way the skin puckered and scabbed all along his arms brought the taste of water and bile back up his throat.

"Sorry." The artist tucked the bottle behind his back. "I know it's not pretty to look at."

"You're fine. It's a good thing you didn't end up losing them."  
Tracy's forced smile retreated. "I might as well have," he said beneath his breath. He brought the bottle to his eyes. Droplets along the interior slid down with every slight shake in his grip. "I sure as hell can't sketch with these. I can barely write my own name."

James' gaze flitted to the space above Tracy's head. Shortly after he and Jessie had started digging, the Aqua Rings had disappeared.

"Maybe not now, but with a few more healing sessions your arms will be back to normal in no time," James offered. Tracy bit back his response and nodded with a sigh. He moved past the Rocket member, taking a knee to peer deeper into the hole.

"Are they deep enough for you?"

"They'll do." Tracy pushed off his knee and glanced over to the mound of flesh that was once Snorlax.

His death might've been a blessing in disguise. Keeping him fed was easy the first few days. What else was I going to do with all the dead Pokémon? Yet, no matter how many he ate, he never looked completely sated. Any weight he gained in the evening just got burned off in his fights with the flock. If he were still with us, how long would it be before he started looking at the rest of us as food?

Azumarill sprayed the ground leading to the graves with water and stepped away to give Glalie room. Ice quickly crystalized over the soil. Tracy and James watched with morbid fascination as a frozen block holding Snorlax's arm slid into the grave. Corphish sent the next ice block while Azumarill took a small box holding what was left of Venonat and placed it in a separate grave. Buizel's expression was grim. He held the box with Pachirisu's remains.

Sceptile paid the event no mind and immersed himself in his task. Focusing a small bit of aura into the edge of his newest toothpick, he carved symbols into stone slabs he'd fashioned from a boulder. He didn't understand human language, but he knew each one was the name of a friend he'd lost in the last week. There were more headstones than graves; not everyone's remains had been found.

Not every Pokémon would get a headstone. If that were the case all of Pallet Town would be covered with them. Instead, Tracy had asked Sceptile to fashion a headstone larger than the others, for all the people and Pokémon who had passed in the first few days. Occasionally the Hoenn starter would glance over to a paper Tracy had assigned to a headstone, making sure he copied the symbols correctly. Totodile held each up for him to see properly, feet rooted to the floor.

"You sure you want to bury the professor here?" James glanced to one of the graves. If Tracy hadn't told him it was meant for the old man, he never would have known. Professor Samuel Oak had several achievements and accolades to his name, enough to warrant a place above or apart from the other graves. Tracy shook his head.

"Having his grave separate from them spits on what he was always preaching. He spent his life telling everyone about the relationships between humans and Pokémon. He would've wanted it this way. I'm sure of it." James could only nod. He had no room to talk about the man whose ranch he and his partners had repeatedly assaulted.

"It might not mean much coming from me, but…I think he was an incredible person."

Tracy didn't turn but bobbed his head. "It means the world to me. Thanks."

The silence that followed was heavy as the last piece of Snorlax slid into his grave.

"You should go check on Jessie and make sure she's okay," Tracy said quietly. James took the hint and walked away, stepping around the blanketed figure a few feet behind them.

***

Ash stood at the doorway to his room. It was just as he had left it, unchanged in a world that had changed to much. It was too pristine, too neat to exist. He hated it. It was a lie, a lie that everything could still be normal, that he could crawl back into the fantasy he'd been living in for years.

He'd spent so little time in his room over the last few years. It shouldn't have surprised him to find it so untouched. Ash shambled inside, hands ghosting over his table and chair. If he made contact, moved anything out of place, the illusion would be broken. Outside was the real world; in here, he could try and lose himself in the memories.

Ash slumped onto the edge of his bed, his head bowed low. His hat slipped from him, along with any compulsion to catch it. He watched it bounce off his knee and flop in the center of the room. There it stayed.

He eyed the corner of the room, where old hats hung from the nails on the wall. Each one sang of his travels but the longer he listened the more he heard only screams. Every thought of old friends, old adventures now curdled beneath his questions.

Is Misty still alive? Or Gary? How am I going to tell him about his home? His grandpa? What about May and Max? Did Brock lose his family like Dawn and I did?

His thoughts turned to acid, eating away any joy the memories could've brought him. There were no answers to his questions, at least not ones he wanted to hear. He wondered if it was better not to know. Not to think or even dream of the world he had lost. Rage had failed to save him from the sadness and the refuge of memories had rotted.

Ash leapt from his bed. He needed to do something, anything to feel some modicum of control again. He swiped the pokéball-shaped alarm clock on his nightstand and pitched it hard enough to feel his arm pop. It shattered into countless shards against the wall, the memory of his mother catching it the night before his journey breaching the roiling sea of thoughts.

He remembered the way she frowned that night because of how late it was.

She's gone.

Her hugs, her scent, her smile, her laugh.

She's dead.

Ash's hands had found his Orange Island trophy. His mom had used it as a dumbbell. He watched it bounce against the wall and skid across the floor, but it wasn't enough. Ash's foot crushed it against the floorboards, flattened more and more with every vicious stomp.

What was it all for? What do any of these things mean if she's gone? What does it matter anymore? None of it can bring her back!

He grabbed the wooden casing holding his first eight badges and let it fly. An explosion of glass and wood bounced off his shirt and skittered across the floor. He flopped onto his bed, jaw clenche. His head felt like it was splitting in two. It took everything he had not to scream, but the room was still filled with choking, guttural noises that bled past his lips. His vision swam, his arm stretched out to the bunk above his.

I'm so tired of this. I'm tired of crying. Of feeling weak. Feeling pathetic. I don't want to feel this way anymore. I don't wanna think any anymore. I just want it all to stop. I don't want to feel this sadness. I…I don't want to be…me…anymore…

The moment of clarity was like a blast of air in a world of smoke.

Ash could never forget his mother. He loved her too much, too deeply for that to be even feasible. She'd raised him by herself. She'd taught him right from wrong, good from bad. Delia Ketchum was intrinsically part of who Ash Ketchum was as a person. But in the last week everything he thought he knew had been challenged.

He'd abandoned people to their deaths. Hearthome, the Prism Scale, Roark, Johanna. He hadn't saved them. Couldn't. There was nothing he could do to fix the situation like he always did. With the way Pokémon were now, was being a Pokémon Master even possible anymore? How could he battle or train without it ending in someone's death?

Even the concept of catching and battling Pokémon had been called into question. He could boast that his Pokémon were his friends, but how many trainers like Paul were out there in the world? How many Hunter Js? Groups like Team Rocket, Magma, and Aqua? People saw Pokémon as tools or weapons. Nearly every legendary he'd met had been hunted or attacked by another human that he had to help stop.

Maybe Ivec was right.

Without his dream, without a way of helping someone that didn't involve hurting or killing someone, what did he have left? Who was he?

I'm Ash Ketchum of Pallet Town.

What town? What is this place besides a mass grave?

I'm Ash… Ketchum…

What does my last name mean anymore? Who would care now that things are like this?

It's your mother's last name.

But now she's gone. I'm never going to see her again.

I'm Ash…

But how much of Ash was left?

I'm…

What if there isn't anything left?

The boy lifted from his bed and swung his legs down to the floor of broken glass. He wiped his eyes and sat in silence.

What if Ash didn't make it?

The boy got to his feet, grabbing the badges amidst the glass. He tossed them onto the bedsheet, then did the same with some old toys. Then the hats. Then trophies that he…that Ash had earned throughout the years.

Ash…Ash died here, didn't he?

The boy wore a sad, pitying smile as he grabbed the corners of the bedsheets.

It's better this way. He doesn't have to suffer anymore.

He hefted the bag over his shoulder and made for the door, through the hall, down the steps until he was outside. Pikachu and Mimey were waiting for him.

There's was no way he was going to make it in this world.

The boy motioned for the two to follow him around the house where Delia Ketchum was buried.

Amidst the beautiful flowers lay a patch of dirt where nothing grew. The boy's eyes watered, but he shook his head and set the bag down.

Ash had lost his mother. Ash had lost his hometown. Ash had lost his dream. Ash had died here. He had to live.

"Mimey, make a hole over there," the boy pointed to the space next to Delia's grave. The mime was silent at first, but the boy didn't rush him. He waited patiently and watched the panels materialize, then slip into the soil. A cube of dirt lifted off the ground, sprinkling into the empty space as it lifted higher.

The boy threw a hat in, one that Ash had worn on his trip through the Sinnoh region. Then went the Sinnoh badges. He was halfway through the pile when Brock arrived.

"Ash, what're you-" he stopped when the boy flinched but didn't turn to face him.

It's okay. He didn't know.

The boy faced the breeder and tossed the flattened trophy absently into the hole. Brock opened his mouth to say something, then looked to Pikachu and Mimey and held his tongue. He stepped back and watched the boy toss more and more into the open grave. Only a handful of things were left when something was tossed his way. Brock caught it with ease and felt a pang of sadness when he opened his fist. A Boulder Badge; the last one he had given as Pewter City's Gym Leader.

"He didn't earn it," the boy said, "Not really."

"Ash, I-"

"He didn't deserve half the badges he got in Kanto," the boy continued. The rainbow badge and marsh badge were the next to join the others in the grave. One badge remained in his hand. Small, blue, and shaped like a water droplet.

"He didn't earn this one either, but it belongs to a friend," the boy explained and slipped the Cascade Badge into his pocket. The only thing left to toss was in his hand. A white and red cap with a green, stylized L stitched into the front. Brock watched the boy hold it over the grave, hand shaking. The fingers wouldn't leave the brim. He watched the scene for a full minute and held in his surprise when the boy lifted his arm and fit the hat onto his head.

"Bury the rest, Mimey." The cap had been tugged low, veiling the boy's eyes. The psychic nodded and released the technique.

The dirt poured back in and filled the grave.


	25. Buzzkill

August 23

***

Steam billowed out from the bathroom as James stepped out, armed only with the towel around his waist and a flashlight. Torkoal and Azumarill filed out after him and made for the house's exit.

"Tell Tracy we appreciate the hot water," James said. The aqua bunny gave a soft nod and closed the door behind her.

With so many newcomers to Oak's home there weren't enough beds or blankets to go around. The Rocket trio weren't strangers to sleeping outside, but Tracy offered them an alternative if they weren't squeamish. He and Jessie had already gone through several houses looking for nonperishables and knew of one that was intact enough for them to sleep in.

James turned around, aimed his light down the hall, and was greeted by a sea of accusing eyes and rictus grins. Vacant as it was, he couldn't shake the discomfort of entering a stranger's home. He'd been tempted to pull down the pictures of the last inhabitants.

"It's just for one night," he whispered to himself and to the portraits, and made his way down the hall. Snores and hisses filtered through the door where Meowth and the rest of their Pokémon were resting. He smiled and hoped they got the rest they needed after such a battle. He reached the end of the hall and the master bedroom. As he opened it, he tried not to sigh.

The only light in the room came from a candle on the nightstand. Its warm glow kept the shadows at bay. Sitting at the edge of the bed, facing a barren wall, was his partner. Jessie hadn't moved since he left for his bath. She was still in her towel. Velvet tresses of damp hair cascaded down her back. It was a nice look for her, he felt.

But do I like it this way because she looks less like Jessebelle?

He quickly dismissed the notion. There was more to it than that. This was a side of his partner no one ever got to see. There was no hairspray to hold her hair up, no eyeliner, lipstick, or makeup of any kind. No additives. Just her. He could look at her face, the same face worn by his terrifying fiancé, and feel at ease.

James walked over quietly, sitting down beside her. She didn't move away or look at him, focus still trained on the wall. He'd given her some space, soaked in her silence for the last hour. Jessie was usually forthcoming with her thoughts and feelings. But that was back when things were normal. The rules had changed since…

My god, has it really been only a week since then?

The decision to stop following Ash and his Pikachu felt like a lifetime ago. Yet the night it all started was still vivid in his mind. A sidelong glance was enough to confirm Jessie wasn't wearing the same defeated expression she had that night, but then…what was eating at her?

The obstacle at Viridian? The Boss' base being destroyed? Being disconnected from command?

James could've spent the rest of the night listing reasons and any one, or all of them, could be responsible for her silence. He'd have an easier time pulling teeth than getting her to tell him what was wrong if she didn't want to talk. Then it dawned on him that even if he knew, what good would it do?

If it was something he couldn't fix, something he had no answer for, what good would come of him knowing?

Solidarity? The comfort of someone who can share her worries? Or…maybe I don't need to know to do that for her.

He scooted towards her, and when she didn't move away he inched further until they were side by side. His arm wrapped around her shoulders. Her cold hair sent goosebumps up his arm; her skin was cool beneath his touch. She didn't respond at first but after a few heartbeats she dipped her head to the side and rested it on his shoulder. They stayed like that for some time. James didn't mind. For the first time in days he felt like he could let himself relax, catch his breath. He didn't have to run for his life or worry about what might be lurking around every corner. There was nothing to pilot, nothing to drive. Nothing that threatened to kill Mime Jr. and his teammates. Sure, there were places that they needed to be, but they didn't have to be there now. For now, they could live in this moment. Even if he was just staring at a blank wall, he was with his partner in crime and he wouldn't trade this moment of peace for the world.

"It's… the first time we've dug a grave," Jessie whispered.

James stiffened for a second, then nodded against her head. "Right."

"It's always been holes and halfway through it I thought that's all that it was until I realized what we were doing and... I kept thinking." Jessie paused, blinking back the moisture around her eyes and taking steadying breaths. James calmly waited for her even as the following silence dragged on for a few minutes.

"The twerp, his Pikachu, all his twerp friends, I, I don't hate them. I don't like them, but it's not like I ever wanted them to be," James felt her shudder as she exhaled and gulped down more air, "the twerpette was really hurt this time and, and you helped her get better, but if things are going to be like this from now on, one day I might have to, I don't want to be the one to-" His hand lifted from her shoulder and stroked the top of her head.

"Our twerps have been through a lot," he whispered, "even before all of… this started happening. Trapped in a sunken cruise ship, stranded on an island of giant robot Pokémon, a dozen world-ending events, usually involving a legendary Pokémon."

He held her hand. "But if something happens, then I'll do the digging."

Jessie nodded against his shoulder, snaking an arm around his waist and pulling him tighter.

She couldn't tell what else she had actually seen. She couldn't bring herself to say she saw him and Meowth at the bottom of the grave.

***

"You should get some sleep," Tracy mumbled. Brock leaned against the door to Oak's living room.

"I could say the same," Brock fired back.

"I sleep better when my body just gives out. I don't dream when that happens."

"Sorry."

"Don't be, you're not the one who causes them. What's your reason for staying up?"

"I have questions, and there's a few things that you need to know."

"I'm all ears."

The breeder pushed himself off the door and beckoned for Tracy to follow him to somewhere quieter. Dawn was on the other side of the door. She'd finally managed to catch some sleep, and Brock meant to keep it that way. They went up the first flight of stairs into Professor Oak's lab.

"What're your plans after this? Are you staying here, or would you like to come with us?"

Tracy slumped onto the lab's couch, eyes angled towards the ceiling. He was quiet for some time, then his eyes closed.

"I came here to be with Professor Oak. Now that he's… gone," he forced the word out and took a breath to steady himself, "part of me feels like there's nothing left for me here, but I can't help but feel guilty about leaving this place."

Brock nodded. "I won't force you to come with us. If you want to stay here, I'd understand. Things should be a little more peaceful with the fearow's leader gone."

"Or the rest of the flock might come for revenge," Tracy countered, but Brock shook his head.

"I spoke with Samurai after the fight, he told me that most of the flock stuck around to watch the end of the fight and when their leader died, they left. He must've not inspired loyalty from them."

"Sounds about right." Tracy gave a grim smile and stared at his hands. "Let's say I do come with you, where would I be going?"

"That's where this gets complicated," Brock sighed. "Samurai tells me that going into the Viridian Forest is a death sentence. The beedrill are expanding their territory and snatching up anyone they can find, people or Pokémon, to feed their young. I told him all the Pokémon Ash owned but he said that wouldn't be enough. He said we'd need an army."

"So you thought about the flock that Ash's Pidgeot watched over," Tracy surmised. The breeder nodded.

"I thought for sure they would've come to help in this fight."

"I was banking on it," Tracy admitted. "Did Ash say why they didn't come?"

"Haven't heard him say anything about it. I've barely heard him talk. Mimey told me that they found the flock, but that we wouldn't be able to count on them for any kind of help. He wouldn't tell me why."

Tracy turned his hands over, curling his twitching fingers one at a time. At first Brock thought it was some physical exercise for his damaged hands, until he looked up at him.

"Twenty-nine Pokémon is hardly an army."

"You're right. Which is why I came up with a plan. You're not going to like it, but-"

Brock's words were cut short when Azumarill bounded into the room, crying her name and pointing down the stairs.

***

The glow of morning crept out from beyond the mountain range. While it wasn't much, it was enough to forgo a flashlight. Brock ran out the door. The breeder's jog halted the moment he saw the bodies sprawled across the dirt. He looked away, hand hovering over his mouth as he blinked away tears.

The body was mangled and discolored. Certain segments were bloated with wounds and pustules that wept a dark ichor. Brock wanted to move closer, but the smell hit him like a wall. Moving any closer threatened to make him heave what little food he'd eaten earlier.

Samurai had beaten him there, seemingly unbothered by the foul odor. Tracy and Azumarill arrived only seconds later. His reaction was far less composed. Were it not for Windsheer's corpse, her foot still clenched around her partner's wrist, he never would have known the body once belonged to Sarah.

"She arrived a few minutes ago. Ash and his Mr. Mime were the first to reach them. The…I believe he called her a Staraptor? Well, she was alive moments before I arrived. Beedrill poison is potent, it's a miracle she made it here from the airport." Samurai explained, his tone even and clinical.

Brock needed a moment. Just days ago he had seen this woman alive. Tracy seemed to get over his grief quickly, a trait he no doubt obtained in the week before Ash had arrived.

"Are these the beedrill from Viridian?" Tracy had been looking at Brock but Samurai shook his head.

"Pallet is much too far for even the scouts to travel. This had to be done by a different swarm."

Tracy nodded. "Oak kept a small group of beedrill here on the ranch. Those that survived the blast took some bodies with them and flew away."

"How long ago was this?" Samurai pressed.

"About a week ago," Tracy replied, to which the swordsman bit his armored thumb and frowned.

"We will have to act quickly then. If we are lucky then the group that escaped here is trying to form their own hive. If left unchecked they will become an issue in the future. It will be no easy feat, but it can be done with the forces we have now." Samurai was already moving past Tracy when he felt a shaking hand grab his armored shoulder.

"And what if we're unlucky?" Tracy asked. Samurai stared back at him, unblinking as he spoke.

"If the group that left here found an already established hive, then the coming battles will be," the swordsman paused, as if weighing the word on his tongue, "Costly." He moved beyond Tracy's reach and passed Brock.

"Where are you heading?"

"The man and woman brought us here in a car. I will need it if I'm to catch up with him."

Brock's brows furrowed. "Catch up with-?" The breeder spun around and realized that none of Ash's Pokémon were around. Their trainer was equally absent.

Brock whirled around and roared at Samurai. "You let him go fight them?!" The swordsman merely shrugged.

"If it were any of you I would have gotten in the way, but Ash has seventeen powerful Pokémon. From the look in his eyes, there was little I would be able to do to stop him," Samurai calmly replied and continued on his way to the car.

Brock twisted around to look at Tracy, who gave him a simple nod.

Brock turned to run but stumbled forward. Something popped and snapped beneath his shoe. He glanced down at a pile of red and white shards. It was not the only pile. More were scattered across the road. Something about them was familiar enough to give him pause.

"He gave them a choice," Samurai said from behind him. Brock hadn't heard the swordsman get close and nearly jumped out of his skin. "To leave and live their lives how they wanted to, or to come with him and fight battles they might not survive. Not one of them chose to leave. Each one destroyed their own pokéball and went over to his side. In some ways he has grown up since I last fought him."

A part of Brock wanted to agree with him, but the boy he'd traveled with for years, the one he loved like a younger brother, the one he watched grow into a respectable trainer, had just been laid to rest the night before.

***

Following Ash to the hive wasn't all that difficult: just follow the carnage. Beedrill corpses were strewn across the plains. The sight had repeated itself for two miles. Looking ahead revealed no shortage of bodies. Rather than swerve around the corpses and add hours to their trip, Brock drove straight over them. It made for a bumpy ride, but Samurai found a small level of catharsis with each jump.

"And you're sure Ash didn't cause this?" Brock asked once again. If it annoyed samurai to repeat himself a third time, he didn't let it show in his voice.

"Yes, Brock. From the position of the corpses and the wounds on their bodies, a physical move slayed them. While it's possible that Ash's party restricted themselves to only dealing physical strikes to conserve strength, the discoloration of their exoskeleton tells me they were already dead by the time Ash passed through here. It is likely the bodies we see now were the scouts chasing Sarah and her Staraptor."

"Why would they chase her all this way?"

"Killing the beedrill with a physical attack allows their bodies to release a pheromone and alerts any beedrill around of their demise and of a potential food source. Fighting one risks alerting the entire hive of your presence, unless you have a move that can chemically change the body enough to render the pheromones inert."

"Okay," Brock's hands wrung the steering wheel. They were at a quarter tank now. Brock had never driven a car. He'd spent a few days with Claudina in her truck on the drive up to Sinnoh and had watched James on the way to Pallet Town. While the start had been a little rocky, going in only one direction through open fields made driving Giovanni's armored limo a simple task.

Samurai's gaze was drawn to the world beyond the window, watching the beedrill bodies that trailed behind them. The sun was shining. Tattered clouds offered patches of shade over the lush green plains. Brock would've brought the windows down to enjoy the cool breeze if not for the green spray that came whenever to drove over a body…which was frequent.

"We may be in luck," Samurai added after a beat of silence.

Brock's eyebrow rose to his hairline. "How so?"

"Sarah and her husband's Pokémon, it would seem they felled a considerable number of enemies. Without seeing the actual hive I have no way of knowing if the percentage removed was substantial, but if this truly is a new hive, then our chances of victory are good. Their staraptor were strong."

"Not strong enough," Brock sighed back.

"I know it does not alleviate the grief you and Ash must be feeling, but it is commendable nonetheless. How long did they travel with you?"

"Not long. A few days, maybe three. The only reason we're still here is because of their help."

"Then we must do what we can to ensure their efforts were not wasted," Samurai replied and leaned forward. "Ahead, the battle draws near."

Brock didn't know what Samurai was referring to, but he saw a twinkling in the distance. In another minute's drive, he made out a roaring inferno that rose from the ground flanked by elemental towers sweeping across the sky.

"Stop the car, now." Samurai's voice was calm as he gave the command, the grip on his sword tight. Brock nudged the breaks until they came to a stop nearly half a mile from the fight. He was about to shift the gears to park when Samurai stayed his hand.

"Keep the car running. I will need you to stay here."

"While you do what?" Brock snapped. Samurai stared at him, unblinking. Brock bristled under the stare.

"We are too late to stop Ash from fighting the hive. I will engage the swarm and help put an end to it. Should a patrolling swarm see this car while returning to help their hive, they will demolish this car to get to you. I would rather not lose such a valuable asset if we can help it. There is no guarantee we will find another working vehicle. You have your Pokémon with you, correct?"

Brock nodded and gestured to the passenger seat where the two pokéballs, containing Croagunk and Sudowoodo, rested. He'd left Happiny back at Oak's ranch.

"Good, release them as soon as I leave and have them protect you and this vehicle." Samurai didn't bother to get confirmation before jumping out the back and breaking into a run towards the battle. Brock wrung the steering wheel and grumbled as Samurai's figure grew smaller and smaller.

***

Takeda made no effort to hide his presence from the beedrill. He saw a row of them watching their brethren battle Ash's party from a distance, waiting for an opening to enter the fray. The sound of his footfalls managed to draw the focus of one, its blood red eyes glinting in the sunlight. A variance in the buzz from its wings alerted the others. Within seconds, a yellow ring of opponents encircled the swordsman.

He waited for who would make the first move. The Beedrill weren't dumb enough to converge on him at once and risk getting in the other's way; they would come at him in smaller groups of two or three. Takeda bent his knees slightly, widening his stance. He could hear the incessant drone growing louder behind him just as one of the beedrill charged.

Typical, he thought, and with practiced ease he sidestepped in time to see a footlong stinger skewer the air where his head had been. His follow-up strike was a blur, a silver flash in a sea of yellow and crimson. The charging beedrill crashed into the other, throwing their untethered heads from their necks.

This was Takeda's element. This is what he had spent every night and day of the last three years perfecting in the forest. These were the nightmarish creatures he'd grown up with for most of his life. He knew their moves, their tactics, and their limits. The fighters of this fledgling hive could do nothing that the veteran beedrill of Viridian hadn't already shown him in his youngest days.

Years of running and dodging their stingers could be repaid. No longer would he have to watch from the safety of his cabin, fearing the unending, angry buzzing, sometimes so loud it shook his bones. He could finally repay them for every painful sting, for every moment of fear in his formative years. The promise of more fighters no longer scared him.

He welcomed it.

Another side step, another stab at empty air. Takeda's katana slashed up, slicing through the beedrill's arms. The severed arms had barely started to dip when Takeda brought his blade back down, slamming the end of his hilt into the hornet's skull with a satisfying crunch. The swordsman twirled in place, grabbing the falling severed stinger in his free hand in the same spin and stabbing it into the face of the beedrill behind him.

Not so fun when it happens to you.

With every victory a new soldier took its place. Takeda did not mind. It would take a hundred more foes to make him tire and he was not alone. As tempting as it was for him to watch the sphere of carnage surrounding Ash's team, Takeda knew better than to let his focus shift from the task at hand.

A new beedrill dove towards him from above, leading with his main yellow stinger. Takeda shifted his stance and parried the protrusion, sending it wide. The hornet's life would've ended there if not for an opportunistic ally butting in with a Twin Needle. Takeda worked his blade into a rhythm, working new patterns into the flow of the blade.

Takeda reached out to the beedrill whose strike he'd parried and grabbed its main stinger by the base. With a simple swing he lobbed off its head, then brought the blade back around to block a strike to his back. He twisted around, bringing to bear the remaining sixty pounds of hornet upon the nearest attacker.

His smile widened at the discordant buzzes his new club brought forth with each swing. From the corner of his vision he saw a beedrill charge at him. He pretended not to notice as he bisected his next opponent from mouth to stinger. Just before the blow connected Takeda brought up his headless club and braced himself for the crash. A pair of twin stingers wriggled and dug through their comrade's body in a desperate attempt to reach him.

"So much for camaraderie. Not that you monsters would know a thing about that. As for stabbing through someone, this is how you do it!" Takeda growled, hefting his sword and slipping it through his club's thorax down to the hilt. The stingers went still. He twisted the blade and slashed out of the dying sheaths.

Takeda's onslaught continued for several minutes, yet, for all his efforts he was barely making a dent in the hive's forces. His assault on the swarm had managed to bring him close enough to view the epicenter of chaos that had the entire hive's attention. With their focus split on Ash's party and himself, Takeda had instances where he could safely view how Ash's party fared.

Pikachu twirled through the air, carving through limbs, wings, and heads with his Iron Tail. Tauros, still wearing the Alolan saddle, bucked two beedrill behind him into oblivion while Glalie covered him from above and froze the fighters that came at them from the front. Sceptile's body was a green blur, reenacting his previous bout with Ivec and left a trail of bodies wherever he ran.

At first, Takeda couldn't find a few members of Ash's party. He expected the worst, until he noticed several Pokémon he didn't recognize. He wondered if Ash had found survivors to help him fight the hive, but the longer he looked, the more he noticed that each of them bore the resemblance of an earlier form.

The air around Monferno's body was filled with fists. Beedrill who strayed too close found large chunks of their bodies suddenly missing. Floatzel was a veritable storm of Sonic Booms and Water Pulses, darting and effectively covering Kingler whenever he swung about his dominant claw. The crimson crab's pincers parted and unloaded an orange column of energy that erased another swath of drones from the sky. Those that dove too low to avoid the blast were crushed into paste by Donphan in his circuit around the perimeter. Crawdaunt's claw seized a beedrill by the face and unloaded a Bubblebeam at point-blank.

The cacophonous drone of the swarm surrounding Croconaw swalled his cackles. The beedrill pumped their arms at a feverish pace, none succeeded in even scratching him as he danced around their strikes. One drone made the mistake of overextending and moving closer. His efforts were rewarded with a view of several rows of teeth just before Croconaw's jaws snapped shut.

Many a brave and foolish beedrill charged into Torkoal and Quilava's combined smokescreens. Those that lacked that courage watched from a distance as something in the smoke cloud flared up, sending their bold, burning brethren crawling away. At least those who could still crawl.

At the center of it all stood Ash, eyes closed and seemingly blind to the havoc unfolding beyond the safety of a barrier box around him. Standing dutifully behind him was Mimey, hand resting on the back of the boy's head. Acting as their personal vanguard, Muk's role had not changed too much from his fight against the fearow. The beedrill quickly equated contact with death and kept a healthy distance from him. Or they would have, if not for Bayleaf and Bulbasaur ensnaring them and launching them into his slimy maw.

One dedicated beedrill dove at Ash from above, twisting and weaving through the onslaught of elements being thrown at him before stabbing his main stinger against the top of Mimey's psychic box. The world around him seemed to hold its breath. Even the ever-diligent swarm had paused to watch the efforts of one of their own.

The barrier shattered without a sound, each shard dissolving into motes of light. Takeda felt the world exhale, and with it came a pulse that ripped through reality. The air thrummed, condensing to the point where he found it hard to breathe. Takeda grew innately aware of his own heartbeat, how something intangible had intensified and frightened him on a basic, primal level. He was not alone.

The offending beedrill trembled, hesitation locking his arms from its follow up strike. Mimey immediately put up a new barrier, just as a yellow blur rushed past the beedrill and took a piece of its skull. A green blur followed, ensuring the beedrill's arms would never hurt anyone ever again.

A salvo of Razor Leaves followed, then a beam of ice and a torrent of flames. In seconds the body was no more. For the remaining team members who hadn't contributed to the complete erasure of the beedrill, there was no shortage of outlets to vent their fury. The bloodlust around Takeda became palpable; none of it emanated from the swarm.

He could see something feral glint behind the eyes of Ash's party. What was once tepid irritation toward the swarm had erupted into something beyond loathing, something the human lexicon had not named. His years-long resentment for the beedrill seemed impotent by comparison.

While the faces of beedrill were not normally expressive, he could see the terror behind their glossy crimson eyes. The creatures he had he'd grown up with, his boogeymen, were now trembling.

When the last beedrill fell, Mimey unmade the barriers and Ash opened his eyes to see the carnage his team had wrought.

Is this a trick? Takeda thought as he drew closer and found that it was not.

The boy's eyes were cold, unforgiving, and unmistakably red.

Takeda hadn't helped slay a nest of monsters.

He'd followed the real ones to it.

***

The sun was high in the sky when Brock killed the engine and stepped out of the car. The boy from Pallet walked calmly with his starter and Noctowl riding atop his shoulders.

He passed the piles of beedrill bodies, caving in the head of a fallen fighter in with his foot and continued undeterred. The mounds rivaled his height, at least until they were knocked down by the Pokémon that followed him. Whether by command or something that came naturally to them, fourteen Pokémon, split evenly, marched on each side.

Ash stopped a meter from him and stared, his eyes dark like the night before.

"Where's Samurai?" Brock began. It was clear the boy wasn't going to initiate the conversation.

"Checking the hive, or what's left of it," he answered evenly.

"Why didn't you tell us you were heading out?" Brock tried to keep the anger out of his voice.

"I didn't need anyone's help for this."

Brock's nostrils flared, lips pulled back to bare teeth for just a moment before he composed himself once more.

Ash's Pokémon simply stared at him. Each one was ready to defend Ash at a moment's notice. Brock had known these Pokémon since Ash caught them. He'd been there when they evolved, fed them, and helped Ash care for them, yet he could feel none of that warmth in their eyes. Or maybe that was the extent of what his time with them meant.

They knew who he was, they'd just drawn the line in the sand. If it was a matter between Ash and him, he knew who they would choose every time. Even if he wasn't technically their trainer, he didn't need that title to have their loyalties.

"Ash, you can't just bail on us like this. It's-"

"It's better this way. There's no risk for you or the others, so why are you even complaining?" Ash didn't meet his eyes, more like he was looking beyond him to something on the horizon.

"Because this isn't okay, Ash. Because other people care about you and don't want to see you get hurt. What you did just now was reckless and stupid, and you can't do this alone."

Ash's eye twitched, the first real sign of emotion Brock had gotten out of him since they'd split ways. Pikachu leapt off Ash's shoulder just before the boy splayed his arms out and twisted away to look back at the towers of smoke rising behind him.

"Yes I can! We just did. I didn't need you or Tracy or anyone else! Do you know how many people they've killed? How many Pokémon? They killed Frank and Sarah and their staraptor! We went in. We stopped them. We made sure no one else had to lose their life because of them."

"You left us!" Brock stepped forward, arms trembling at his sides with nothing but force of will keeping them there instead of hitting the boy before him. He could see Mimey watching them, hands glowing softly. Just in case.

"It's not like you were alone," Ash screamed back, wiping the spittle from his chin. "You had Tracy and Team Rocket and-"

"What if the fearow came back, huh? What if they wanted to avenge their dead leader? Did you think about that? Did you think about how we would feel? Or are Dawn and I just other things you can throw into a hole…"

Ash's eyes went wide then scrunched close. He tugged the brim of his hat down and looked away.

Shit. I went too far. Brock dragged his hand through his hair. They stood there for some time. The distant crackle of flames pervaded the air.

"I just… you were safe… and…and if you came," the boy hiccupped behind his hat.

Brock moved in, closing the last few inches between them and hugged him. Ash's arms did not lift to return the hug, but he didn't move away, which was a small bit of progress as far as the breeder was concerned. "We're gonna need to rely on each other if we're going to make it out of this. You don't have to do these things all by yourself. Lean on us a little, okay? We still care about you."

Brock patted the his back and stepped away, Ash's face still veiled by his cap. "What say we head back, huh? Samurai and I have a plan that we want to run by you and Tracy. You wanna ride in the car with me?"

Ash shook his head and walked towards Tauros who bent low and let him on. Brock took the hint and stepped back into the car. The rest of Ash's party, save for Pikachu, Tauros, and Mimey, turned into crimson light and disappeared into Ash's pokéglov.

Ash glanced back at the ruins of the old airport, feeling a little satisfied that he had avenged Frank, Sarah, and their staraptor. Yet, the longer he stared at the smoke, the more he heard Ivec's voice whisper in his ears.

Your kind love fighting, is not the slaughter you see here the spectacle your kind crave?"

"Pika-pi?" Ash's head snapped up and turned to see his starter standing atop the saddle's handlebars. Mimey floated into view, standing atop one of his floating barriers and studying him with concern.

"Pi-ka-chu?"

"Mr. Mime?"

"I'm fine, guys. Don't worry. Let go ho-" the boy grimaced, then shook his head. When his eyes opened the chill of his stare had returned. "Let's head back," he corrected, patting Tauros' head as he gripped the handlebars once more.


End file.
